Opening…

Part II

CHAPTER I.—That it is Satan’s grand design to corrupt the minds of men with error—The evidences that it is so—and the reasons of his endeavours that way, 127-140

CHAPTER II.—Of the advantages which Satan hath, and useth, for the introduction of error—(1.) From his own power of spiritual fascination—That there is such a power, proved from Scripture, and from the effects of it—(2.) From our imperfection of knowledge; the particulars thereof explained—(3.) From the bias of the mind—What things do bias it, and the power of them to sway the understanding—(4.) From curiosity (5.) From atheistical debauchery of conscience, 140-158

CHAPTER III.—Of Satan’s improving these advantages for error—1. By deluding the understanding directly: which he doth, (1.) By countenancing error from Scripture—Of his cunning therein—(2.) By specious pretences of mysteries; and what these are—Of personal flatteries—(3.) By affected expressions—Reason of their prevalency—(4.) By bold assertions—The reasons of that policy—(5.) By the excellency of the persons appearing for it, either for gifts or holiness—His method of managing that design—(6.) By pretended inspiration—(7.) By pretended miracles—His cunning herein—(8.) By peace and prosperity in ways of error—(9.) By lies against truth, and the professors of it, 158-189

CHAPTER IV.—Of Satan’s second way of improving his advantages, which is by working upon the understanding indirectly by the affections—This he doth, (1.) By a silent, insensible introduction of error—His method herein—(2.) By entangling the affections with the external garb of error, a gorgeous dress, or affected plainness—(3.) By fabulous imitations of truth—The design thereof—(4.) By accommodating truth to a compliance with parties that differ from it—Various instances hereof—(5.) By driving to a contrary extreme—(6.) By bribing the affections with rewards, or forcing them by fears—(7.) By engaging pride and anger—(8.) By adorning error with the ornaments of truth, 190-208

CHAPTER V.—Satan’s attempts against the peace of God’s children evidenced—(1.) From his malice—(2.) From the concernment of peace to God’s children—What these concerns are, explained—(3.) From the advantages which he hath against them by disquieting their minds—1. Confusion of mind—2. Unfitness for duty, and how—3. Rejection of duty—4. A stumbling-block to others—5. Preparation of the mind to entertain venomous impressions, and what they are—6. Bodily weakness—7. Our miseries Satan’s contentment, 209-218

CHAPTER VI.—Of the various ways by which he hinders peace—First way, By discomposures of spirit—These discomposures explained: by shewing, (1.) What advantage he takes from our natural temper, and what tempers give him this advantage—(2.) By what occasions he works upon our natural tempers—(3.) With what success—[1.] These occasions suited to natural inclinations, raise great disturbance—[2.] They have a tendency to spiritual trouble—The thing proved, and the manner how discovered—[3.] These disturbances much in his power—General and particular considerations about that power, 219-237

CHAPTER VII.—Of the second way to hinder peace—Affrightments, the general nature and burden of them, in several particulars—What are the ways by which he affrights—1. Atheistical injections—Observations of his proceeding in them—2. Blasphemous thoughts—3. Affrightful suggestions of reprobation—Observations of his proceedings in that course—4. Frightful motions to sin—5. Strong immediate impressions of fear—6. Affrightful scrupulosity of conscience, 238-254

CHAPTER VIII.—Of his third way to hinder peace, by spiritual sadness—Wherein, 1. Of the degrees of spiritual sadness—2. Of the frequency of this trouble, evidenced several ways—Of the difference betwixt God and Satan in wounding the conscience—3. Of the solemn occasions of this trouble—4. The engines by which Satan works spiritual sadness:—(1.) His sophistry—His topics enumerated and explained—[1.] Scriptures perverted—[2.] False notions—[3.] Misrepresentations of God—[4.] Sins: how he aggravates them—[5.] Lessening their graces: how he doth that—(2.) His second engine, fear: how he forwards his design that way, 254-286

CHAPTER IX.—Of his fourth way to hinder peace, by spiritual distresses—1. The nature of these distresses—The ingredients and degrees of them—Whether all distresses of soul arise from melancholy—2. Satan’s method in working them; the occasions he makes use of; the arguments he urgeth, the strengthening of them by fears—3. Their weight and burden explained in several particulars—Some concluding cautions, 287-311

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Part III

CHAPTER I.—The first circumstance of the combat, the time when it happened—The two solemn seasons of temptation—The reasons thereof, 313-316

CHAPTER II.—The second circumstance, Christ’s being led by the Spirit—What hand the Spirit of God hath in temptations—and of running into temptations when not led into it, 316-321

CHAPTER III.—The third circumstance, the place of the combat—The advantage given to temptations by solitude, 321-322

CHAPTER IV.—The fourth circumstance, the end wherefore Christ was led to the wilderness—Holiness, employment, privileges, exempt not from temptation—Of temptations that leave not impressions of sin behind them—How Satan’s temptations are distinguished from the lusts of our own heart, 322-328

CHAPTER V.—Of Christ’s fast, with the design thereof—Of Satan’s tempting in an invisible way—Of his incessant importunities, and how he flies when resisted—Of inward temptations, with outward afflictions—Several advantages Satan hath by tempting in affliction, 328-336

CHAPTER VI.—That Christ’s temptations were real, and not in vision—That temptation is Satan’s employment, with the evidences and instances thereof—Of Satan’s tempting visibly, with the reasons thereof, 337-341

CHAPTER VII.—The general view of these temptations—Of Satan’s gradual proceeding in temptations—Of reserving a great temptation last—What a great temptation is; in what cases to be expected—Of Satan’s using a common road, in comparing these temptations with the ordinary temptations of men—Of the advantage Satan takes of natural appetite, sense, and affections, 341-346

CHAPTER VIII.—The rise of Christ’s first temptation—Of Satan’s suiting his temptations to the conditions of men—Of tempting men upon the plea of necessity—The reasons and cheats of that plea—His pretences of friendship in tempting, with the danger thereof, 346-350

CHAPTER IX.—A particular consideration of the matter of the first temptation, what Satan aimed at in bidding him turn stones into bread—Of Satan’s moving us to things good or lawful—The end of such a motion—How to know whether such motions are from Satan or the Spirit—What to do in case they be from Satan—Of his various aims in one temptation—What they are, and of his policy therein—Of his artificial contrivement of motions to make one thing infer another, 350-355

CHAPTER X.—Of Satan’s chief end in this temptation—His skill in making the means to sin plausible—The reasons of that policy, with his art therein—Men’s ignorance his advantage—Of the differences of things propounded to our use, 355-359

CHAPTER XI.—Of the temptation to distrust upon the failure of ordinary means—Of the power of that temptation, and the reasons of its prevalency—Of unwarrantable attempts for relief, with the causes thereof—Of waiting on God, and keeping his way—In what cases a particular mercy is to be expected, 360-367

CHAPTER XII.—Of Satan’s proceeding to infer distrust of sonship from distrust of providences—Instances of the probability of such a design—The reasons of this undertaking—Of Satan’s endeavour to weaken the assurance and hopes of God’s children—His general method to that purpose, 367-376

CHAPTER XIII.—The preparation to the second temptation—Of his nimbleness to catch advantages from our answers to temptation—That Satan carried Christ in the air—Of his power to molest the bodies of God’s children—How little the supposed holiness of places privilegeth us from Satan—Of Satan’s policy in seeming to countenance imaginary defences—Of his pretended flight in such cases, with the reasons of that policy—Of his improving a temptation to serve several ends, 376-382

CHAPTER XIV.—That presumption was the chief design of this temptation—Of tempting to extremes—What presumption is—The several ways of presuming—The frequency of this temptation, in the generality of professors, in hypocrites, in despairing persons, and in the children of God—The reasons of Satan’s industry in this design—His deceitful contrivance in bringing about this sin—Preservatives against it, 382-390

CHAPTER XV.—Self-murder, another of his designs in this temptation—How he tempts to self-murder directly, and upon what advantage he urgeth it—How he tempts to it indirectly, and the ways thereof—Of necessary preservatives against this temptation, 390-396

CHAPTER XVI.—Of pride, Satan’s chief engine to bring on presumption—What pride is, and how it prepares men for sinning presumptuously—Considerations against pride—The remedies for its cure—Pride kindled by a confidence of privileges and popular applause, 397-401

CHAPTER XVII.—Of Satan’s subtlety in urging that of Psalm xci. 11, 12, to Christ—Of his imitating the Spirit of God in various ways of teaching—Of his pretending Scripture to further temptation—The reasons of such pretendings, and the ends to which he doth abuse it—Of Satan’s unfaithfulness in managing of Scripture—Cautions against that deceit—The ways by which it may be discovered, 402-415

CHAPTER XVIII.—The manner of Satan’s shewing the kingdoms of the world—Of Satan’s preparations before the motion of sin—Of his confronting the Almighty by presumptuous imitation, and in what cases he doth so—Of his beautifying the objects of a temptation, and how he doth it—His way of engaging the affections by the senses—Of his seeming shyness, 415-423

CHAPTER XIX.—Satan’s end in tempting Christ to fall down and worship him—Of blasphemous injections—What blasphemy is—The ways of Satan in that temptation, with the advantages he takes therein, and the reason of urging blasphemies upon men—Consolations to such as are concerned in such temptations—Advice to such as are so afflicted, 424-430

CHAPTER XX.—The nature of idolatry—Satan’s design to corrupt the worship of God—The evidences thereof, with the reasons of such endeavours—His general design of withdrawing the hearts of men from God to his service—The proof that this is his design—Upon whom he prevails—That professions and confidences are no evidences to the contrary—His deceit of propounding sin as a small matter—The evidences of that method, and the reason thereof, 430-437

CHAPTER XXI.—Of worldly pleasure—Proofs that this is Satan’s great engine—What there is in worldly delights that make them so—Counsels and cautions against that snare, 438-444

CHAPTER XXII.—Of Christ’s answer in the general—That these temptations were upon design for our instruction—Of the agreement betwixt Eph. vi. and Mat. iv.—The first direction, of courageous resolves in resisting temptations—Its consistency with some kind of fear—The necessity of this courage—Wherein it consists; and that there is a courage in mourning spirits, 445-450

CHAPTER XXIII.—The second direction, that temptations are not to be disputed—The several ways of disputing a temptation—In what cases it is convenient and necessary to dispute with Satan—In what cases inconvenient, and the reasons of it, 451-458

CHAPTER XXIV.—The third direction, of repelling a temptation without delay—The necessity of so doing—What a speedy denial doth contain, 459-462

CHAPTER XXV.—The fourth direction, of repelling a temptation by Scripture arguments—Of several things implied in the direction—The necessity of answering by Scripture arguments—The excellency of the remedy—How Scripture arguments are to be managed, 462-469

CHAPTER XXVI.—The fifth direction, of prayer, and of the seriousness required of those that expect the advantage of prayer—Of God’s hearing prayer while the temptation is continued—Of some that are troubled more, while they pray more, 470-471

INDICES, &c., 472-480

PREFATORY NOTE.

Few who know the fine old quarto ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ of Dr Gilpin will dispute its right to a place of honour in the Series of later Puritan Divines. To those who have not hitherto heard,—or only heard of it,—we commend it with all confidence and urgency as in various respects a remarkable book by a remarkable man. It will be found—as an early writer says of another—‘matter-full,’ and nevertheless suggestive rather than exhaustive—that is, you have many rich lodes of the ore of thought opened, but many others indicated, not worked; clear and keen of insight into the deepest places of the deepest things discussed; wide in its out-look, yet concentrated in its in-look; sagacious and wise in its general conclusions, and passionate as compassionate in its warnings, remonstrances, and counsels; full of faith in all ‘written’ in The Word, and pathetically credulous in accepting testimony when a given fact (alleged) is fitted to barb an appeal; curious and quaint in its lore; intense and anxious in its trackings of sin without and within; pre-Raphaelite in the vivid fidelity of its portrayals of satanic guiles, and guises that are always disguises; and above all, tenderly experimental in its consolation to the tried and troubled. The third part is an exposition of the Temptation of our Lord, which may bear comparison for thoroughness and power with any extant.

For our Memoir of Dr Gilpin we have had literally to do everything, inasmuch as next to nothing has thus far been published concerning him—not even his birthplace, or birth or death dates known. If still we feel the result of our ‘labour of love’ in prosecuting the necessary researches, to be very inadequate, it is gratifying that we have secured so much as we have done.

As in the preparation of former Memoirs, our visits and investigations have brought us much pleasant intercourse and correspondence with descendants, representatives, and reverers of the old Worthy. Family papers of the most private nature have been unreservedly confided to us—as duly acknowledged in each place where referred to or used; and altogether the most ungrudging help has been rendered. The various friends mentioned in the foot-notes of the Memoir will be so good as accept this further general acknowledgment.

It only remains to state that the present volume has been edited on the same principle with Sibbes and Brooks. The text is given with scrupulous integrity; references and quotations are traced, and less known names and dates annotated; every reference or quotation of Scripture verified and filled in; and copious indices are subjoined; the two last the more important, that Dr Gilpin himself seems to have quoted Scripture from memory, and furnished no ‘table’ or index beyond the heading of the several chapters as ‘contents.’

May this revised treatise be used at this later day as in the past, to help in the great warfare against the Adversary.

ALEXANDER B. GROSART.

* * * * *

⁂ It has not been deemed needful to give a list of such slight errata as have come under our eye in preparing the indices; but mark, with reference to the ‘Note,’ page 2, that for ‘Dr’ there is a misprint of ‘Mr,’ and that ‘deficiency’ is spelled with an ‘i’ for an ‘e.’—G.

MEMOIR OF THE REV. RICHARD GILPIN, M.D.

In pursuing our investigations for our Memoir of RICHARD SIBBES, we found and noted, that his name—in every one of its odd variations of spelling, numerous as those of Shakespeare and Raleigh—had quite died out at once of his native county and country, being traceable nowhere for fully a century of years—the stream which rose at Cony-Weston, Norfolk, in 1524, lapsing in a ‘Richard Sibbes, clerk, rector of Gedding, aged 93, February 2, 1737;’ and the blood thenceforward flowing in the female line.[1]

Very different is it with the name of GILPIN, now before us. From family-muniments and genealogies intrusted to us by various representatives, of nearer and remoter kin, it were easy to go back many generations before the earliest-noticed SIBBES; while at the present day, in nearly all gradations of circumstance, at home and abroad—from the original Cumberland and Westmoreland, to ‘the gray metropolis of the North:’ from the Castle of Scaleby, to ‘huts, where poor men lie;’ and from Wyoming of Pennsylvania to Acadie of Evangeline and ‘distant Ind’—GILPINS, descending from our Worthy, and proud of the descent—sustain the ancient renown of goodness and brain-power. As I sit down to put my collections into shape, I am called to place therein the statesman-like Speech on a great public question of our age, of CHARLES GILPIN, in the House of Commons—words destined to re-echo again and again, and determine legislation—so grave, wise, patriotic, Christian are they; and now the Libraries are being besieged for the ‘New America’ of William Hepworth Dixon, wherein I was gladdened with a splendid, yet penetrative and measured, eulogy of the Founder of Colorado, WILLIAM GILPIN;[2] both, as I am informed, as do nearly all of the name—in this resembling the Rogerses of the United States, who all claim descent from John Rogers, proto-martyr of England—counting from Bernard Gilpin, the apostle of the North, the venerable and holy St Bernard of Protestantism; and so, as we shall see, from our Richard.

I place in an Appendix[3] such genealogical-antiquarian details as some readers may look for in a Memoir of a Gilpin; and summarise here that the author of ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ was sprung of a race such as old Dan Chaucer would have cited in teaching ‘who is worthy to be called gentill’ as we may judge by a few of his golden lines:—

‘The first stocke was full of rightwisnes, Trewe of his worde, sober, pitous, and free. Clene of his goste; and loved besinesse, Against the vice of slouth, in honeste: And but his heire love vertue as did he, He is not gentill, though he rich seme, All weare he miter, crowne, or diademe.’[4]

Turning now to DR RICHARD GILPIN—whose remarkable book is in the present volume faithfully reprinted; he was grandson of Richard, a younger brother of the illustrious Bernard, his father being an Isaac Gilpin. We get a glimpse of both grandfather and father in the county History as follows:—‘In a small manuscript by one Isaac Gilpin,—whose father [Richard Gilpin, as before] had been steward of several manors within the barony of Kendal, and died about the year 1630, at the age of 92 years,—he says he had heard of his father, and observed the same himself, that by general custom within the said barony, if a woman hath an estate, and married, hereby the estate is so far vested in the husband, that he may sell it in his life-time; but if in his life-time he doth not alter the property, then it shall continue to her and her heirs.’[5] This little record takes us to ‘the barony of Kendal,’ the ‘Land’ of Bernard Gilpin; and thither accordingly, we turned our search. There was a vague traditionary understanding that our Richard Gilpin was born, as of the same family, so in the same region of ‘Kentmere;’ but nothing definite had hitherto been known. The Kentmere ‘Registers’ do not commence until A.D. 1700; and thus we were baffled there. But Kentmere being a chapelry in the old Parish of Kendal, a hope was indulged that in the parent-parish the wished-for facts should be discovered; nor were we disappointed, for in the Baptism-Register, under date ‘October 23, 1625,’ there is this entry:—

‘Richard, son of Isaac Gilpin, of Strickland Kettle,’

which is our Worthy, as after-dates will shew.[6] He might be born a week more or less previously, according to the then ‘use and wont’ of infant baptism. The same Register furnishes another earlier entry, which—if we are correct in surmising that the Isaac Gilpin of Strickland Kettle in 1625, was the same with the Isaac of it—informs us Richard was a younger son:—

‘1623, May 3, Henry, y^e soun of Mr Isaacke Gilpin of Helsington.’

Elsewhere he is named ‘of Gilthroton, co. Westmoreland;’ and seems to have been the same who was clerk to the Standing Committee of county Durham in 1645.[7] That Isaac Gilpin was ‘steward of several manors’ probably covers the different local designations. There are so many Gilpins, and so many of the same Christian name, that it is hard to decide on given personalities; but, after considerable comparison and sifting, such appears to us to be the parentage paternally of Dr Gilpin. Maternally I have come on nothing; for an Elizabeth Gilpin, widow of Isaac Gilpin, merchant, Newcastle, though of the same stock, was not his mother. This ‘widow’ was buried in All Saints, 7th November, 1694.[8] Archdeacon Cooper, of Kendal, in transmitting these data, remarks: ‘The mode of writing, and the insertion of Mr, indicates a person of some importance.’ But with reference to ‘Mr,’ I suspect it is rather accidental, as it is inserted in the one, and left out in the other; and moreover, is frequently omitted when, from other sources, we know the family was of importance. Little Richard must have been just beginning to toddle about when his venerable grandfather’s snow-white head [‘aged 92’] was laid in the old Church-yard. One delights to picture the aged Simeon, before his serene departure, ‘blessing’ by prayer his dear little grandchild, after the manner of such ancient Puritans as were the Gilpins in every branch.

Strickland-Ketel, not Kettle, as in the Register and vulgarly,[9]—now settled to have been the birth-place of Dr Gilpin,—was a most fitting nest for one destined to serve the master-Shepherd so well. It is an English Bethlehem—a rich, kine-fragrant, pleasant, breezy tract of pasture-land, sloping from the west down to the river Kent, its eastern boundary, which river, issuing out of a fair ‘mere,’ or lake, gives its name to Kent_mere_ Hall, the seat of the elder house of the Gilpins. The hamlet of Ketel itself is on the road from Kendal to the Ferry on Windermere; and thus partakes of the glory of Wordsworth’s poetry, as of Scott’s, who in Rokeby celebrates a local incident of the Cromwellian time.[10] It is somewhat noticeable that within the space of an ordinarily-sized farm should have been born BERNARD GILPIN and HENRY AIRAY,[11] and later, Richard Gilpin.

Of the childhood of our Richard, we can tell nothing directly. But with the famous ‘School’ founded by his honoured ancestor available, we are safe in assuming that he entered it. It is of this School that the later biographer of Bernard Gilpin,—himself a Gilpin,—thus writes: ‘The effects of his endowment were very quickly seen. His school was no sooner opened than it began to flourish, and to afford the agreeable prospect of a succeeding generation rising above the ignorance and errors of their forefathers.’ ... ‘That such might be its effects, no care on his part was wanting. He not only placed able masters in his school, whom he procured from Oxford, but he likewise constantly inspected it himself.’[12] The saintly Apostle was long gone to his rest before the advent of Master Richard; but as bearing the name, and being of the blood of the Founder, he could not fail to be welcomed to all its privileges. The more’s the pity that no memorial seems to have been kept of the scholars of this celebrated Institution. Before proceeding to Houghton, he was probably initiated into learning at the nearer Kendal, then all astir with the enterprise of the Flemings. So I gather from family communications made to me; and thus we have to think of the ‘little lad’ trotting down the quiet rural roads among the sunny hills, much as another Richard earlier, from Packenham to Thurston,[13]

... ‘with his satchel And shining morning face,’

not, we may be sure,

... ‘creeping like snail Unwillingly to school.’[14]

There is a tradition,—reported by various descendants,—that our Gilpin went from ‘School’ to Queen’s College, Oxford. This, it will be remembered, was Bernard Gilpin’s own College, and whither he sent his favourite scholars, as Airay, Carleton, Ironside, and others. So that if Richard went to Oxford at all, Queen’s would most naturally be selected. No mention of him, however, occurs in any of the College Registers. Therefore he cannot at any rate have graduated.[15] I place in Appendix incidental valuable data concerning other related Gilpins gleaned in Oxford.[16]

In lack of the facts of the case, it is impossible to explain why one so well-born and well-introduced did not, apparently, follow out a full University career. That the circumstances of his own Family and kindred were adequate thereto—apart from the Gilpin ‘endowments,’ which were open to him specially—and that they were of the right stamp to appreciate a sound, liberal education, is certain from numerous notices of the house that occur in old records.[17]

Another floating tradition,—also brought before me by descendants, is, that our Gilpin studied at the University of Glasgow; which so far receives confirmation from the statement of his bosom-friend Alderman Barnes of Newcastle—of whose MS. ‘Memoirs’ I have already spoken—that ‘he was educated in Scotland;’ but neither there does his name occur.[18]

Equally uncertain is it,—advancing further,—when or by whom Dr Gilpin was ‘licensed’ or ‘ordained’ as a Preacher of the Gospel or Clergyman. Barnes again says that he ‘administered the Lord’s Supper to a small congregation in Durham;’[19] and Calamy, that ‘he had been [i.e., before Greystoke] a Preacher in Lambeth, at the Savoy—where he was assistant to Dr Wilkins—and at Durham.’[20] Of all of these, the memorial has perished. Neither under ‘Lambeth,’ nor ‘Savoy’, nor ‘Wilkins’—afterwards Bishop of Chester[21]—nor ‘Gilpin,’ does Newcourt’s Repertorium[22] mention him; nor, after considerable investigation in each place, has any trace of him been found beyond the above statements. So that his presentation to the Living of Greystoke in Cumberland is really the first definite fact we have, after his now ascertained birth-place, baptism-date, and family connexion. The Rector of Greystoke had been ‘sequestered’[23] by Sir Arthur Haselrigge and the Parliamentary Commissioners for the Propagation of the Gospel in the four northern counties; which sentence having been appealed against, was confirmed by the Committee for (as they were called) Plundered Ministers. The Rector was William Moreland, M.A., ‘bred,’ according to Walker of the ‘Sufferings,’ folio, ‘at Jesus College, Cambridge.’[24] This ‘ejection’ took place in 1649-50. He was succeeded by ‘one West, who died in about two years’ time.’[25] Such is all Walker says of West; but from another overlooked authority, we learn a little more of him. In the ‘Postscript’ concerning ‘Mr John Noble,’ added to Audland’s funeral sermon on that notable man, it is said, after mentioning the ‘laying aside’ of Mr Moreland, ‘certain Commissioners appointed others, in his room, to supply the Parish, when John Noble was little turned of twenty years of age;’ and then, ‘In the year 1650, Mr West was sent, a zealous Preacher, and one mighty in prayer, but sickly; and he soon died of a consumption. His doctrine being exemplified in his own life, was very effectual on many in that Parish, and particularly on John Noble, who received lively convictions of Divine truth and the world to come, and so began earnestly to inquire about the life and power of godliness.’[26] Gilpin immediately succeeded Mr West, and thus must have entered on his duties in 1652 or 1653, when he was in his twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth year.

What influence procured our Worthy the ‘presentation’ to this (comparatively) rich benefice,—for it was then worth £300 per annum, now nearly trebled, being from £700 to £800, we do not know; but among the neighbouring gentry there were intermarriages with the Gilpins, e.g., the Laytons and Whartons—the former the ancient owners of Dalemain in Dacre, the next parish to Greystoke. The Living was held by the family of Arundel—with a branch of whom it remains—but was subject no doubt to the Commissioners of Parliament during the Commonwealth.

We have Richard Gilpin, then in 1652-53 installed as the ‘parish priest’ of Greystoke; and save him of Bemerton, none ever brought a finer spirit, or a more entire consecration, or a more ‘ingenuous’ activity, to the service of the one great Master.

Visiting Greystoke recently, I found it a quaint-visaged, gray, long, low-roofed church, venerable and time-stained still, though ‘restored’—tenderly—in 1848. It is dedicated to St Andrew. It nestles in a ‘bit’ of woodland such as—flushed with autumnal tints of green and gold equal to the glories of a New England Indian summer among the maples and elms—would have burdened and kindled the eyes of a Ruysdael or Gainsborough, aye and until the ‘studies’ were transferred to imperishable canvas; and the whole surrounding district, sweet, soft, and tranquil enough for the Valley of Rip Van Winkle’s long dreamless sleep—much more so indeed than Irving’s own, behind the shaggy bluffs of the Hudson. It is a genuinely English ‘parish.’ When Gilpin came to it, the ‘common people’ were intelligent and godly after the antique type of the mid-Reformation period, having a spice of sturdy originality of character and speech that is not altogether gone even now. For ‘leisure hours,’ if the cultured Rector wished it, there were in the country Seats—embracing ducal Castle and historic family mansion—men and ‘faire ladyes’ of rare force and worth. There are ‘Sunny Memories’ still—treasured in dim old manuscripts—of the full ‘gatherings’ from far and near, from hall and hut, from plain and fell, of the ‘gentle and simple’ over a wide area—to hang on the lips of the ‘good Parson,’—as everywhere he came to be named. We have a fine ‘testimony’ to the integrity and devotedness of the Rector in the ‘Postscript’ of John Noble’s Funeral Sermon, previously quoted: ‘Graistock parish was large, had a fair glebe and liberal revenue. It had four chapels: the nearest three miles distant from the Church. Mr Gilpin provided worthy, preaching ministers for those, and allowed generously for their support; himself residing at Graistock, where he had a society of communicants prepared by the foregoing efficacy of the word on their minds and hearts, and manifested in a new life,’ (page 41.)

Altogether Greystoke could not be other than a most congenial portion of the great ‘Vineyard’ for one like RICHARD GILPIN, who breathed the very spirit of saintly GEORGE HERBERT, and had little taste for the controversies in which some of his contemporaries were engaged.

Not very long after his settlement at Greystoke, viz., in 1654-5, a sad disaster befell the parent or ‘Kentmere’ house of the Gilpins, springing out of the ‘confusions’ of the Commonwealth. I shall let the good Prebendary tell it,—preliminary remarks and all, from the manuscript already quoted,—reserving comment: ‘In the year 1655, says he, ‘Cromwell dissolved his refractory parliament, and the members of the House retiring to their several counties, spread everywhere such new matter of discontent that measures were no longer observed. Men were levied in many places against the usurper, and a general rising was expected. But Cromwell, who had his eyes in all places, soon dispersed every insurrection as it made its appearance. It was at that time he sent his major-generals throughout the kingdom to punish with fines and proscriptions all delinquents. Among the families ruined by the severity of these military magistrates was Mr Gilpin of Kentmere Hall, near Kendal, in Westmoreland. He was the head of the family, and lived respectably on an estate which had been in the hands of his ancestors from the days of King John. It seems probable he had taken an active part against Cromwell in the kings life-time; but his affairs being composed, he lived quietly till these new disturbances broke out on Cromwell’s violent measures with the parliament. Having joined an unsuccessful insurrection, he became a marked man, and was obliged to provide for his safety as he could. To avoid a sequestration he gave up his estate in a kind of trust-mortgage to a friend, and went abroad. There he died; but in a time of quiet, his heir not being able to get hold of the proper deeds to recover the estate, it was totally lost to the family. In the meantime Dr Gilpin lived quietly at Greystoke, concerning himself only with his own parish, and lamenting those public evils, which he could not remove.’[27] One can smile at this time of day at the name ‘Usurper’ applied to England’s mighty Protector; can understand the inevitable royalism of a dignitary of the Church, that holds for ‘the king’ as against ‘the kingdom,’ can leave the admissions of former freedom to ‘live quietly,’ and of an active part ‘against Cromwell,’ to justify any enforced flight, without either refuting allegations or exposing prejudices. But as matter of fact, while Dr Gilpin, in common with many of his Presbyterian brethren, condemned the execution of Charles, and while the shadow that fell on Kentmere doubtless darkened the rectory of Greystoke, he yet unreservedly accepted the government of Cromwell, and in every way sought to carry out the measures devised by the Parliament. Moreover, far from ‘living quietly at Greystoke,’ and ‘concerning himself only with his own parish,’ it is the very opposite of the facts. Instead of retiring in the timid, nerveless fashion suggested, he took a foremost part in organising that modification of Church government which the abolition of Episcopacy demanded. The evidence of this, spite of the wreck and loss of contemporary ‘records,’ is abundant; and it is the next landmark in the Life we are telling.

It needeth not that in a necessarily brief Memoir such as this we should enter on the merits of the national change of Church ‘Polity’ which gave supremacy for the time to Presbytery over Prelacy. The materials for judgment lie in fulness in every worthy Ecclesiastical History of England; and the whole story has just been re-written with fine candour and attractiveness by Mr Stoughton.[28] Presbyterianism in England during the Commonwealth can hold its own,—lustrous as it is with the names of Edmund Calamy and Bates and Manton, Richard Baxter and William Jenkyn and Thomas Watson, Samuel Clark and Thomas Wilson of Maidstone, and Thomas Hall of King’s Norton,—selecting a few, urban and rural, almost at random.

Suffice it to recall that, outside of the more ambitious organisation of London,—whose unpublished ‘Memorial’ lies all but unknown in Sion College Library,[29]—there were various voluntary Associations which took a semi-Presbyterian mould, in the counties of Chester, Cumberland, Westmoreland, Dorset, Wilts, Worcestershire, and others. These Associations embraced the ‘clergymen,’ and ‘ministers’ or ‘pastors,’ and laymen belonging to the Episcopalians, the Presbyterians, and the Independents, and sought to combine the presidency of the first with the union and co-operation of the second, and the freedom of the third; in short, a federated rather than organic oneness. Subordinating everything else, was an intense yearning after nearness to all who loved the one Lord Jesus, and heroic as devout endeavours for ‘discipline,’ so as to vitalise and Christianise ‘the masses.’ It is pathetic to read of the days and nights of these good men’s Fasting and Prayer ‘unto the breaking of the light,’ for one another’s Parishes and Charges. Their ideal was lofty, their own practice beautiful, their success marked in changing the face of erewhile godless and heathen-dark communities. What RICHARD BAXTER was in Worcestershire, RICHARD GILPIN was in Cumberland and Westmoreland; and as the author of ‘The Saint’s Everlasting Rest’ was chosen to draw up the ‘Agreement’ for his county, so the author of ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ was selected to execute the same office for Cumberland and Westmoreland. The ‘Agreement,’—of which the title-page will be found in the list at the close of our Memoir, must be studied by all who would master the problems of the period. It is comprehensive, without being general or vague; decisive in dogma, but not uncharitable; high in aim, but most practical; earnest, but not fanatic; stern to offences, but hopeful and tender toward offenders; richly scriptural, but also, and because of it, most human, all a-glow with wide sympathies, and unutterably wistful in its appeals for oblivion on all lesser matters, so as to set a firm front to the evils and passions, the divisions and heart-burnings, the rivalries and recriminations, of the time. The whole is perfumed, so to speak, with prayer. If it was a Utopia, it was a grander and more celestial one than ever More or Bacon imagined; nor while it lasted was it a mere paper Agreement. For years through all the Counties enumerated the ‘good men and true’ made their ‘gatherings’ so many centres of light and love; and their Parishes were as spiritual Goshens amid the national formalism and barrenness.

Seeing that the extent to which ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ has gone prevents our reprinting the minor writings of Gilpin, as we had desired, we shall here give a few brief extracts from the ‘Agreement,’ to illustrate its aims, tone, and style. Thus he struck the key-note: ‘When we compare the present miseries and distempers with our former confident expectations of unity and reformation, our hearts bleed and melt within us. We are become a byword to our adversaries; they clap their hands at us, saying, “Is this the city that men call the perfection of beauty?” Piety is generally decayed, most men placing their religion in “doting about questions” which they understand not; profaneness thrives through want of discipline; error, blasphemy domineers; jealousies, divisions, unmerciful revilings and censurings, are fomented among brethren of the same household of faith; the weak ones are discouraged and distracted by the multitude of opinions and fierce opposition of each party, and that which is worst of all, God’s honour suffers deeply, and the credit of religion is brought very low. “Is this nothing to you, all ye that pass by?”’ But having lamented, as with Jeremiah, he assumes a more hopeful and encouraging attitude, thus: ‘Though these things can never be sufficiently lamented, yet seeing it is not sufficient barely to lament them, without endeavouring to heal them, and considering that it is a duty incumbent upon all Christians, according to their several places and abilities, to promote the welfare of Zion, especially when we have tasted so much of the bitterness of our divisions, and because a brotherly Union hath so much of God in it, and consequently gives so much hope that God will take that course in establishing his Church when he shall arise to build Jerusalem, and seeing it is an unjustifiable pettishness and peevishness of spirit to be averse from joining together in anything because we cannot join in all things, therefore we resolve, [“the associated ministers,”] setting aside all carnal interests, and casting ourselves, with all our concernments, at the Lord’s feet, to walk together as far as we can for the present, not resting here, nor tying ourselves from further progress in union, as the Lord shall give light and satisfaction, much less binding ourselves from a submission to and compliance with a more general accommodation, if any such thing should hereafter be agreed on, which might be more suitable and fitted for the composure of the different principles of brethren throughout the nation.’—(Pp. 1-3.) Hereupon follows the ‘Basis’ of the ‘Agreement,’ which was very much the same with Baxter’s in Worcestershire, and that of Essex, &c., &c. ‘In order,’ he proceeds, ‘to the carrying on of this great work, we lay down and assent unto these general rules as the Basis and Foundation which must support and bear up our following Agreement:—

‘1. That in the exercise of discipline it is not only the most safe course, but also the most conducing to brotherly union and satisfaction, that particular churches carry on as much of their work with joint and mutual assistance as they can with conveniency and edification, and as little as may be, in their actings, to stand, distinctly by themselves and apart from each other.

‘2. That in matters of church discipline those things which belong only ad melius esse, ought to be laid aside, both in respect of publication and practice, rather than that the Church’s peace should be hindered.

‘3. That where different principles lead to the same practice, we may join together in that practice, reserving to each of us our own principles.

‘4. That where we can neither agree in principle nor in practice, we are to bear with one another’s differences that are of a less and disputable nature, without making them a ground of division amongst us. Yet notwithstanding we do not hereby bind up ourselves from endeavouring to inform one another in those things wherein we differ, so that it be done with a spirit of love and meekness, and with resolutions to continue our brotherly amity and association, though in those particulars our differences should remain uncomposed,’ (pp. 3, 4.)

Further, all pledge themselves to be true and faithful ambassadors, stewards, workmen, and overseers, and ‘to this end we resolve in the course of our ministry to observe the temper, disposition, and capacity of the generality of the people, and to suit ourselves not only in our matter to the people’s condition, but also in our expressions to the people’s apprehension, that so our sermons may be plain, piercing, seasonable, and profitable,’ (p. 4.) Speaking next of ‘catechising’ from the Assembly’s ‘Larger and Shorter’ Catechisms, and of ‘inspection,’ there are these wise counsels, that there be tender dealing in consideration of ‘first, unacquaintedness with the terms and words of the question; or, secondly, from bashfulness or shamefacedness,’ (p. 11.) And in regard to ‘supervision,’ to be cautious ‘lest brotherly inspection degenerate into an unbrotherly prying,’ (p. 15.) And there is this pronouncement on a questio vexata of the period: ‘We agree not to press a declaration of the time and manner of the work of grace upon the people as a necessary proof of their actual present right to the Lord’s Supper, nor to exclude persons merely for want of that; yet will we accept it if any will be pleased to offer it freely,’ (p. 16); and onwards there is encouraged a ‘holy modesty and bashfulness’ in speaking of the ‘passage and transaction ‘twixt God and our soul,’ (p. 39.) Finally, the Confession of Faith consists of the Creed paraphrased, and confirmed by texts, (pp. 23-25.)

Another incident proved with equal unmistakableness that RICHARD GILPIN regarded Oliver as no ‘usurper,’ but the rightful governor of the nation. I must leave the reader to consult the authorities on the history of the establishment of the University of Durham. Every one who knows anything of ‘the times’ knows that the efforts to found a University there—which the death of Cromwell delayed, and the Restoration quashed—is one of the ‘boasts’ of the Protector’s reign.[30] In honoured association with Sir Thomas Widdrington, Lords Fairfax, Grey, Wharton, and Falconbridge, Sir Henry Vane, and Sir Arthur Haselrigge, and other well-known names, Gilpin was appointed one of the ‘Visitors.’[31] He had entered into the scheme with enthusiasm and hope. It is difficult to estimate what was lost herein by the death of Cromwell. If we may conjecture from the ‘Model’ of the learned and pious Matthew Pool—issued in 1657-58, while the grand jury were addressing Richard to complete what his father had begun—it is all but certain that a more strictly theological training would have been inaugurated than any of the great Universities even to this day supplies.[32]

To shew that Dr Gilpin still adhered to his former action in Church matters, it must here be stated that in 1658 he preached a ‘Sermon’ before the ‘associated ministers of Cumberland’ at Keswick. By the request of the ‘General Meeting’ he published it. The title-page will be found in our list of his writings at close of this Memoir. It was with reluctance the good man consented to give his sermon ‘to print,’ as he intimated in the ‘Epistle Dedicatory.’ ‘What your commands,’ says he, ‘have wrested from me—for of that force and prevalency with me are your desires—I now lay at your feet. If I could have prevailed with you to have altered your vote, or after you had passed it, durst have resisted—this had gone no further than your own hearing. But when you would not be persuaded, I endeavoured to conform myself to those Christians in Acts xxi. 14, and took up with that which put a stop to their entreaties. “The will of the Lord be done,”’ (pp. 1, 2.) The Text of this sermon—which is no common one—is Zech. vi. 13, ‘Even He shall build the Temple of the Lord,’ &c., and hence its title, ‘The Temple Rebuilt.’ I select a few of the more easily detached sentences. First of all, concerning ‘Controversy,’ he says admirably: ‘Disputings, though they have their fruits, yet are they like trees growing upon a rocky precipice, where the fruit cannot be gathered by all, and not by any without difficulty and hazard,’ (p. 3.) Again, on the office of the ministry, he exclaims: ‘Dream not of ease in an employment of this nature. God, angels, and men have their eyes upon you to see how you will bestir yourselves: it is your duty, and not a matter of unnecessary courtesy which you may give or hold back at your pleasure. He that hath commanded you ἐν τόυτοις εἰναι, (1 Tim. iv. 15,) to “give yourselves up wholly to these things,” will not take himself to be beholden to you when you have done your best: neither is it any disparagement to you to become even servants to any: so that you may but gain them and forward Christ’s work. They that think it below them to trouble themselves so much with catechising, reproof, admonition, and are of Ptolemæus his mind, who changed the title of Heraclides his book, from πονου ἐγκωμιον to ὄνου ἐγκωμιον: as if laboriousness were nothing but an ass-like dulness, making a man crouch under every burden; but God having made the ox which treadeth out the corn to be the hieroglyphic of your employment, he doth thereby teach you that labour and patience are so far from being a disgrace to you, that they are necessary qualifications for the calling of the ministry,’ (pp. 3, 4.) Lastly—for we may not linger—take a burning and fearless reproof of the lukewarm: ‘How cowardly and sinfully shamefaced,’ he observes, kindling as he advances, ‘are many when they should plead for God and truth, as if their own hearts did secretly question the reality of religion! How strangely do many of the gentry spend their time! What irreligious, prayerless families do some of them keep, when they should shew better example to the meaner sort; and yet how confidently can they censure others for hypocrites—sometime unjustly concluding against the strictness of God’s ways from the liberty of some professors—not considering what their own carriage and vanity do testify against themselves! How do we needlessly multiply our controversies and disputes! and with what bitterness do we manage them, even when the strife is merely about words and method! and, generally, how is the name of God and religion abused to serve the designs of men! What strange religious people have we! Some must needs be religious by taking up a singular conceit and opinion, though a man may easily see their hearts through their lives: others have all their religion on their tongue’s-end: they can have good discourses, and yet be unconscionable in their callings, shops, and trading,’ (pp. 33, 34.)

Thus taking a conspicuous part in all that belonged to the interests of the Church of Christ, our Worthy behind these went out and in before his flock a ‘master-builder,’ from Sabbath to Sabbath preaching the very gospel of Jesus Christ, with unequalled power, pungency, and pathos combined, while he drew all hearts to himself; for he acted on the maxim—

‘All worldly joys go less To the one joy of doing kindnesses.’[33]

He was a large-hearted and open-handed man, as well as a faithful ‘preacher’—his life an exemplification of his teaching. He was, says the ‘Noble’ memorial, ‘a gentleman and a Christian indeed; one of singular gravity, temper, learning, and all valuable qualifications for a minister; of a good family too, and an eligible estate; a witness and an honour to the good cause of a further Reformation,’ (p. 38.) And so he pursued the ‘even tenor of his way’ in his tranquil sphere. He had married shortly after coming to Greystoke; but, curiously enough, the lady’s name has not been preserved in any of the numerous family papers put into my hands. The Greystoke ‘Registers’ record the baptism of two of his children, William and Susannah. The ‘entries’ may be given here:—

‘1657. September. Borne the 5th Day in ye afternoune, and ye 23d day Baptized, William, the Soune of Mr Richard Gilpin, p’son, [= parson], of Graistock.

‘1659. Susanna, ye Daughter of Mr Gilpin, p’son, of Graistocke, was borne ye 17th day of October, And Baptized ye 7th of December, 1659.’[34]

I have described the parish of Greystoke as tranquil; but even into it there swept—as the sea-swell sweeps into the smallest nook of shore—the ruffle of that agitation which pervaded the nation in religious matters; and, inasmuch as it gives colour and tone to not a few passages of the ‘Dæmonologia Sacra,’—his difficulty with the Quakers—to which I have made reference—falls now to be chronicled. We shall have an after-occasion to notice subsequent interviews with the pre-eminently good, though provoking, Quaker missionary-preacher, Thomas Story. Here I glean my information from the ‘Memoir’ of a ‘Greystoke’ celebrity, HENRY WINDER, D.D.[35] The following, then, is the narrative, omitting irrelevant portions:—

‘The Reverend Richard Gilpin, M.D., was the parish minister of Graystock before the Restoration.... Some time before the Restoration Quakerism began to spread in Cumberland and Westmoreland. Among other things remarkable in their behaviour, the Quakers would go into the parish church of Graystock, and disturb Dr Gilpin in the pulpit during divine worship. And such were their novel phrases and cross questions and answers, that the Doctor seemed sometimes at a loss what to say to them. Upon that, some of his parishioners were stumbled, withdrew from their former communion, and defended the cause of the Quakers. Among others Henry Winder was seduced, to the no small grief of good Dr Gilpin and his friends. A day of humiliation and prayer was appointed, in which Dr Gilpin, and some of the neighbouring ministers, as well as some of the laity of that parish, took such proper methods as to recover some that had fallen, and to confirm and establish those that were wavering, though, before that, the infection had spread far and wide. Then was Henry Winder secretly resolved to comply with the desire of Dr Gilpin and his church, and make some public recantation. But these convictions did not last long. For notwithstanding several conferences with him, Henry Winder openly joined with the Quakers, and continued among them some years.... Henry Winder and his [second] wife [finally] left the Quakers, returning to Dr Gilpin’s church, in which they afterwards continued.’[36]

All this goes far to explain the unusual severity of the ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ against Quakers and Quakerism—as also the ‘Agreement’—and the grave classification of ‘double meanings,’ and ‘light within,’ &c., &c., among evident ‘devices’ of the Devil. At this later day we willingly forget the eccentricities and vulgarities and blunders of the early followers of GEORGE FOX, and in the spirit of the ‘Quakers’ Meeting’ of winsome Elia, reverence the service of this once powerful and still honoured and altogether inoffensive section of God’s people.

With these minor ‘troubles’ now and again annoying him,—for they ended in the setting up of Quaker ‘tabernacles’ in the district, remains of which survive until now,—the Rector of Greystoke fulfilled his ‘labour of love,’ as a good servant of Jesus Christ, until the Restoration. That event found him with a mind made up and ‘ready’ for all loss and sacrifice. Unable to accept the notorious ‘Act’ of Uniformity, he anticipated the memorable ‘Ejection’ of 1662 by withdrawing from Greystoke; whereupon the former ‘sequestered Rector Morland re-entered on possession.’

We turn to the Family-Manuscript,[37] formerly quoted, for the circumstances of the resignation. ‘After the Restoration,’ observes Prebendary Gilpin, ‘when Episcopacy again took the lead, the Presbyterian party made what stand they were able. But the Act of Uniformity passed, and was executed with rigour. Dr Gilpin, notwithstanding his moderation, could not subscribe it in all its parts, and therefore resigned his benefice, trusting God for the maintenance of himself and family, which consisted of a wife and five children.’[38]

The good Rector was not without a home when he thus left his beloved Greystoke—which was turned into a Bochim when his ‘parishioners’ looked their last upon him. During his incumbency he had invested what ‘monies’ he had at his disposal in the purchase from the Musgraves, of the Castle and small estate of Scaleby near Carlisle—filling up the amount of the purchase-money by a mortgage. Thither accordingly he retired into privacy; but holding with the old Nonconformists the indefeasibility of his office as a preacher of the gospel by an ordination more sure than that from quasi-apostolic hands, he was wont to assemble his employés and neighbours in a ‘great room’ of the old Castle—originally a Border-fortalice erected against the Scots—and there ‘preach’ to them on the Sabbaths.[39] Moreover, he resumed his previous medical studies and practice, to the great advantage more especially of the poor. ‘How acceptable,’ says our Manuscript, ‘his services were among the poor people of those parts, and how much they revered him for wisdom and sanctity, appears from the superstitious respect they paid him. During many years after his death, it was believed among them that he had “laid the devil,” as they phrased it, in a morass not far from his house.’[40] Besides these semi-professional duties, he set about improving the somewhat dilapidated castle, and the lands, more particularly planted trees extensively; the result of which was an entire change of the appearance of the estate, and now the fine woodland within which venerable Scaleby lifts its gray towers, still worthily held by a descendant through the female line.[41]

RICHARD GILPIN was too eminent and potential a man to be allowed to withdraw thus from the stage of public events. He had not been long in his retreat when a ‘tempting’ offer was made him of a Bishopric, as Bernard Gilpin had been ‘tempted’ before him. I recur here again to our Manuscript. Following on the passage already given we read, ‘The king and council however seemed to have been apprehensive lest this rigorous step against the Presbyterians [‘Act of Uniformity’] might have ill consequences. They were much inclined therefore to compound the matter, at least, with some of the leaders of the party; and, in this view, three or four bishoprics and many superior dignities in the Church were offered to them. Among others, Dr Gilpin was represented to the king as a person highly esteemed in the Northern parts of England, and as a man of great moderation. Accordingly, in filling up the vacant bishoprics, his name was inserted for the see of Carlisle: and it was not doubted by his friends but he would get over the few scruples he had to the Act of Uniformity, and accept the preferment: for he had always spoken favourably of the Church of England, and considered the line between the two parties with regard to their religious sentiments as almost an invisible one. But, to the surprise of his nearest friends, he declined the offer.’[42] The ‘friends,’ who so lightly estimated the ‘scruples’ of the ‘retired’ Rector, little knew the stamp of man he was. Everything before and subsequent goes to shew that DR GILPIN remained a Nonconformist, with, no doubt, the same reluctance as Baxter and Calamy and the rest,—to whom bishoprics had similarly been offered, and by whom they had similarly been promptly declined,—but also from the same deep conviction of necessity so long as that ‘Act’ outraged the truth, and ignored conscience. And so, as his ancestor, Bernard Gilpin to Elizabeth,[43] did Richard Gilpin to Charles II. refuse that mitre which he could not have worn unless at the sacrifice of principles which were dearer to him then all civil or ecclesiastical dignities, and life itself.[44] We have an incidental allusion—as I read it—in ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ to the ‘temptation,’ and the casuistic pleas of the ‘friends’ alluded to. Speaking of the ‘wiles’ of the Tempter, and his many snares to induce to sin, he specially notices this, that ‘he extenuates the offence by propounding some smaller good or convenience that may follow that evil,’ and he continues, evidently speaking from his own experience of the ‘fiery dart:’ ‘This, though it be a way of arguing directly contrary to that rule, “Do not evil that good may come,” yet it oft proves too successful; and it is like that common stratagem of war when, by the proposal of a small booty in view, the enemies are drawn out of their hold into a fore-contrived danger. Thus Satan pleads, This one act of sin may put you into a capacity of honouring God the more. Some have admitted advancements and dignities against conscience, upon no better ground, but they might keep out knaves, and that they might be in a condition to be helpful to good men. ... Thus a pretended good to come becomes a pander to a present certain iniquity.’ There are other like intimations in the book, which give new significance and a strange passion to the words; but this one must suffice.

Recurring to our Family-Manuscript—which though somewhat stilted in its style, is generally accurate in its facts—we reach the next point in our Worthy’s ‘Life.’ ‘The Dissenters,’ remarks the Prebendary, ‘having now found they could get nothing from government beyond a Toleration, began to separate everywhere into assemblies, and choose pastors of their own;’ and so eyes and hearts turned toward the Doctor, secluded at Scaleby. ‘Among other places,’ the Narrative proceeds, ‘a large congregation united at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, where they built a handsome meeting-house, and sent an invitation to Dr Gilpin to be their minister; and though he had now taken his measures, and laid his plan for a life of quiet and repose, he accepted their invitation, and as soon as he could settle his affairs at Scaleby, removed with his family to Newcastle.’ ‘Here,’ continues the Manuscript, ‘a new scene of life opened before him. Hitherto he had lived in a country retirement, both at Greystock and at Scaleby, where party prevailed little. But here he was in the midst of a large town, divided by various opinions, where his candour and moderation had an ample field for exercise. In fact, I have heard it said that his meeting-house was a kind of centre of unity among them all. It was frequented as much by Churchmen as Dissenters, and they all found here, what was seldom found in the pulpits of those times, their common Christianity preached, unsullied by the religious contests which everywhere prevailed. His preaching was extremely pleasing and popular. His subject-matter, his language, his voice, his manner, were all engaging, and made such an impression on the people as was never worn out, but with the lives of his contemporaries.’[45]

Gilpin arrived in Newcastle, as the successor of the admirable SAMUEL HAMMOND, one of the ejected,[46] and the spiritual father of Oliver Heywood,—about 1668-69, that is, in the crisis of the ‘troubles’ to all who bore the ‘mark’ of Nonconformity. High-Churchmen were ‘building-up,’ as they deemed it, the Church, by persecuting relentlessly those who dared not acquiesce in the ‘Act of Uniformity;’ and accordingly ‘Dissenters’ had to preach furtively, even as ‘of old,’—and all was clamour and confusion. One of themselves, who, if not of kin, was, in wit and wiseness, of kind, in more than name to Thomas Fuller,—thus vividly describes the period during which the recluse of Scaleby went to his new charge in Newcastle: ‘I am ashamed,’ says Ignatius Fuller, ‘that whilst the Jews’ temple was building, there was neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard in the house,—now when we are raising an house to Him that dwells not in temples made with hands, we should make so much use of iron and steel, and should reckon guns and swords, flames and fagots amongst our means of grace. I am sorry we should seem to have more of Nimrod than Solomon in our building; that we should partake of the curse poured upon the workmen at Babel—

“Let’s make the brother, The sire and son, not understand each other.”’[47]

Thus plunged into the midst of all manner of ‘oppositions’ and intolerance, RICHARD GILPIN, for a goodly number of years—as William Durant before him—confined his ‘preaching’ to his own private house in Newcastle. Very sad is it to come on ‘records’ such as these from the ‘Depositions from the Castle of York, relating to offences committed in the northern counties in the seventeenth century.’[48] They may be well left to speak for themselves, without a word of comment:—

‘clxxvi. Richard Gilpin, Clerk, and others. For holding a Conventicle.

‘Aug. 4, 1669.—Before Ralph Jenison, Mayor of Newcastle, Cuthbert Nicholson, cordyner, [= cordwainer,] saith, that upon Sunday last, about five or six of the clock in the morneng, he did see a great nomber of people goe inn to the house of Mr Richard Gilpyn, minister, in the White Freers, and afterward, he went to parson Jo^{n.} Shaw, and acquainted him with the premisses. Whereupon the said Mr Shaw togeither with the church-wardens, constables, and serjeants-at-mace, by the comaund of Mr Maor, did repaire to the said Richard Gilpin’s howse. And when they came there all the dores were shutt and made fast. And after the dores were broken open, he did see these severall persons come out, viz., Robert Johnson, merchant, Dr Tunstall, Wm. Cutter, James Hargraves, merchant, Wm. Hutchinson, George Headlyn, fitter, Charles Newton, gent, Humphrey Gill, gent, Jno. Bittleston, tanner, Matthew Soulsbey, roper, Michaell Jobling, pully-maker, Robert Finley, chapman, and diverse other persons to the nomber of fortie.’

Again:—

‘The information of Cuthbert Nicholas, cordwainer, against the persons hereinafter named, for being att meetings and conventicles:—Mr Richard Gilping, Mr William Deurant, Mr John Pringle, Mr Henry Lever, preachers,’ &c. &c. &c. &c.

So early as 1663—which would intimate that Gilpin had previously resided and ‘preached’ in Newcastle—Bishop Cosin wrote to the Mayor of Newcastle, telling him to look sharply after ‘the caterpillars,’ naming as the ringleaders, ‘William Durant, Henry Leaver, Richard Gilpin, and John Pringle.’[49] When we consider who these men were—every one a ‘pattern’ of godliness and consuming consecration to the Master, and more especially that one of them, viz., Gilpin, had lately refused to elevate himself to a level with Cosin, it is hard to repress indignation; while the word of scorn, ‘caterpillars,’ reminds one of the Popish parallel of Pope Alexander, wondering how the Signory of Florence could so far have forgotten what was due to him and to themselves as to aid and abet that ‘contemptible reptile,’ [vermicciattolo] in offending the majesty of the Holy See—the ‘reptile’ being SAVONAROLA; or the ‘heretici et imperiti homines’ of SALMERON, as applied to Augustine and Chrysostom, Jerome, et hoc genus omne.[50] Very different was the ‘letter’ of Cosin, Bishop of Durham to the Mayor, from that of another ‘in authority,’ who had also addressed to his Worship of Newcastle ‘a letter,’ wherein he had counselled amity and forbearance; so much so, that Mr Durant and others of the preachers in Newcastle, returned him an answer of thanks for his ‘inculcated exhortations to love the whole flock of Christ, though not walking in the same order of the gospel.’ The writer was OLIVER CROMWELL.[51]

* * * * *

Until the ‘Indulgence’ of 1672, Gilpin carried on his ‘ministry’ in the half-public, half-hidden, manner which these deplorable acts indicate. At one time he had to leave his own house; for in the Barnes’ ‘Memoirs,’ we read, ‘When the Five Mile Act came out, Dr Gilpin lodged at Mr Barnes his house, for more security. When his goods were destrained upon, Mr Barnes—to prevent their being squandered away—replevyed them.’ ... ‘And when there was a design to banish the Doctor from Newcastle, Mr Barnes, by persuading the magistrates of his great usefulness in the town, by his skill in physic, procured him quietness to the end of King Charles his reign.’[52] Not however until 1672 was there anything approaching ‘religious liberty’ in England, and that only by connivance. Until that year, practically, Nonconformity and Dissent from the Church of England was politically treason, and ecclesiastically ‘illegal.’

The Reader will have noticed that by Barnes and others, our Worthy is designated ‘Doctor,’ and that this stood him in stead on one occasion. But the title was not due technically until 1676. In that year he proceeded to Leyden—like Sir Thomas Browne earlier—and there ‘took’ the ‘degree’ of M.D. By the kindness of Professor J. Van Hoeden of Leyden, I am enabled—for the first time—to give the ‘record’ of it from the ‘Inscriptions of the Students.’[53] It is as follows:—‘Richard Gilpin, [misspelled “Gulpin,”] Cumbridus,’ obtained his degrees July 6, 1676—post disputationem privatam de Historia Hystericæ Passionis medicinæ doctor renunciatus est a clarissimo Kraame—and again, Richard Gilpin—Med. Candid., anno 50, apud Prof. Spinæus, die xxix. Junii 1676. This second inscription is only a week before ‘the promotion, die vi. Julii 1676.’ Gilpin ‘lodged’ with Professor Spinæus during his brief visit. In the list at close of the Memoir, along with his other Writings, is given the title-page of the medical Dissertation or ‘Disputation,’ which he read on the occasion and published. In passing, I may remark that the ‘Disputation’ is entirely technical, so that there is nothing to interest an unscientific reader.[54]

Returned from Holland as Dr RICHARD GILPIN,—and by this time married to his second wife, a daughter of a Cumberland squire, Brisco or Briscoe of Crofton Hall,—he gave himself to his work with unflagging zeal, with ever-deepening power and influence, and with most gratifying tokens that he was not labouring in vain, nor spending his strength for nought. He was now in ‘easy’ circumstances. ‘The purchase,’ says Barnes, ‘of the Lordship of Scaleby had put him into debt, but he now cleared it off,’ and Mr Barnes went with him to Sir Richard Musgrave, and got the conveyances finished, and this because ‘by the encouragement his ministry met with from the liberality of the people, and his emoluments by the practice of physic, he [had] raised a considerable estate.’[55] He was vigilant as a ‘watchman’ on the walls of Zion; and as he mellowed into a beautiful old age, surrounded by a gifted and affectionate family, and having ‘troops of friends,’ he came to be the representative man of Nonconformity, so that the ‘care’ of all their churches, in large measure, came upon him. Very pleasant must have been those holiday ‘escapes’ from smoky Newcastle to the sylvan solitudes and brightness of Scaleby, which he interposed between his toils.

His Congregation enormously increased—at a bound probably, for, on the death of William Durant in 1681, his ‘flock’ was received by Gilpin.[56] Accordingly, in the course of years, he received several ‘helpers.’ One was the excellent William Pell, M.A., who, ‘ejected’ from Great Stainton in 1662, after being ‘seven years minister of a congregation at Boston,’ removed to Newcastle, where, says Calamy, ‘he became assistant to Dr Gilpin, and died there, aged 63.’ This was in 1698.[57] Another was Timothy Manlove, M.D., who settled at Pontefract in 1688, removed to Leeds in 1694, and became assistant to Dr Gilpin in 1698. He died August 3, 1699, and Gilpin preached two ‘Sermons’ before his funeral, informed by a fine spirit. They were published; and the title-page will be found in our list of his Writings at close.

As before with the ‘Temple Rebuilt,’ it was only by constraint that Gilpin issued these Sermons—two in one. ‘The following Discourse,’ he says, ‘was preached without the least thought of offering it to public view; and yet I was persuaded to yield to the publication of it to prevent the printing of more imperfect notes.’ The melancholy duty interrupted a series of Sermons on ‘Striving to enter in at the strait gate,’ and from Galatians v. 16, ‘This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh;’ but, he continues, ‘having received an intimation that my dear brother and fellow-labourer, now deceased, had found such comfort in his meditations of this scripture in his prospect of death, that he expressed his desires that his funeral sermon might be upon this text,’ [Romans viii. 35-39,] he had chosen it. I have space for only a very few sentences from these ‘Sermons’ as follow:—“In all these things we are more than conquerors.” It is a glorious victory to stand in an evil day when Satan hath drawn up all his forces against us. It is a glorious victory not only to escape without loss, but to gain by his opposition. Thus we outshoot him in his own bow; and all this, sine labore et sudore, easily through Divine assistance, (page 17.) Again: “We are led by the Spirit” ver. 14. Whether we read the sense backward or forward it holds true, “as many as are led by the Spirit are the sons of God,” and “as many as are the sons of God have been and shall be led by the Spirit,” (page 30.) He pays affectionate tribute to his departed ‘assistants.’ ‘It hath pleased God Almighty and the all-wise Disposer of all things to make another breach upon us. It is not long since he took Mr Pell from us, and now he hath called home Mr Manlove, both of them excellent men, worthy ministers of the Gospel, singularly both of them fitted with abilities for their work. They were successively my dear brethren and fellow-labourers in this part of God’s vineyard. It must be acknowledged that it is a stroke to be lamented: and if we look upon the present Providence we may have some cause to fear that when God is discharging His servants from His work, and paying them their wages, that He may shortly break up His house with us,’ (page 21.)

From what must have been a large correspondence, only two letters of Dr GILPIN have come down to us, in so far as known. The one is an unimportant ‘note’ given in Horsley’s ‘Life of Dr Harle,’ (8vo, 1730,)—not worth reprinting; the other hitherto unpublished, and of much interest and value, as shewing how staunch and true he was to the last in his Nonconformity, and how his one fear in his ‘old age’ was lest the Church of England should absorb his large congregation on his death.

This Letter is among the Ayscough MSS. 4275 in the British Museum (Birchiana.) We have transcribed it verbatim.

‘NEWCASTLE, Decemb. 13 ‘98.

‘DEARE SR,—Since I writ last to you concerning ye proposed correspondence, I received a lr from you, wherein you give answer to yr two obiections wch I had mentioned to you. Your lr I communicated to ye brethren; but then there arose new mutterings about ye designe of yr late reflections on the circular lre, [and they] have taken hold of ye same advantages against it: so yt at present little is to be expected of any procedure in yt matter till men see what will become of ye publick outcry against it.

‘It hath pleased God to take from me my deare assistant, Mr Pell, by a feaver; we buryed him last weeke. It is a sad stroke upon us all, but it falls at present most heavy upon me. Ever since his sickness, it became necessary for me (such are our circumstances) to preach twice every Lord’s day, and I must continue to do so at least every other Lord’s day for some time, because there are a small party (and but a very small one) who have formed a designe, and are now encouraged upon this sad occasion to open it. This party were ye few remainders of Mr Durant’s congregation, who have kept communion wth ours in all ordinances, wthout making any exceptions, about 15 years; but when old Mr Barnes (their politick engineer) brought home his young son Thomas, from London, they presently shewed their intentions to choose him for their pastor; but as introductory to that they (in my absence) thrust him into ye pulpit, without so much as asking leave. I was silent, and suffered him to preach in ye evenings; but they being weary of that—few people staying to heare him—they thought it more conduceable to their designe to separate from us, and set up at ye Anabaptists’ meeting-house; but no great party would follow them, and now they have chosen him to be their pastor, though before this he had in our pulpit vented some unsound Crispian notions, and at last had ye confidence to contradict what I had preached about preparation to conversion. For this, I thought it necessary to give him a publick rebuke, and to answer his exceptions. That theire designe is to worme us out of or meeting-house, and to breake or congregation, is visible to all: they now openly claime ye meeting-house for their pastor’s use, (when he pleaseth,) and pretend old Mr Hutchinson (upon whose ground ye house is built) promised them so much when they contributed towards ye charge of building; but Mr Jonathan Hutchinson, his son, denyes any such promise, and stands firmly to us, though Mr Barnes (his father-in-law) surprised him wth solicitations; but we offer to repay them all ye money they contributed towards ye building.

‘You see, Sr, how much I need your prayers, and (if it could be) ye nomination of a man of parts, prudence, piety, and authority to assist me at present, and to succeed me when I am gone. Much of ye dissenters’ interest in ye North depends upon ye welfare of or congregation. The Episcopall party have long since made their prognostik, yt token I die, ye congregation will be broken, and then there will be an end of ye dissenters’ interest in Newcastle. I pray give my deare love and respects to all ye brethren wth you, and pardon the trouble given by, Revd. sr, your affectionate brother and servant,

RICH. GILPIN.’

On the 4th page, folio—For the Reverend Mr Richard Stratton, minister of ye gospel, at the house, Hatton Garden, in London.

We have little more to tell of the author of Dæmonologia Sacra. He survived his estimable ‘assistant’ Manlove but a short time. But to the last he was ‘in harness.’ Looking over old Papers he came upon a Sermon which he had preached so far back as ‘1660,’ at the ‘Assize’ in Carlisle, revised and published it; and it bears the same date of ‘1700’ as his own death: so that, like Sibbes, he must have had proof-sheets passing through his hands very near ‘the end.’ The ‘Epistle’ or ‘Preface’ prefixed is as terse and effective as ever; and the ‘Sermon’ itself manly, outspoken, faithful, and truly characteristic of the man. The title-page will be found in our list.[58] This ‘Sermon’ having been preached before Judge Twisselton and Serjeant Bernard and the ‘gentry’ present at the Assize, is specially searching on ‘sins’ in ‘high places,’ for Gilpin acted on the sentiment of Edward Boteler, who, in his own quaint way, says of Earl Mulgrave, ‘He knew what great evils evil great ones are; that they have many followers, go they whither they will, and seldom go to hell alone.’ [As after, p. 48.] I detach a single ‘particular’ from this weighty Sermon:—‘If magistrates advance not the throne of Christ, they commonly prove furious against it, and plagues of God’s people. If this proceed from a careless blockish temper, then judgment of itself will degenerate into gall, and the “fruit of righteousness into hemlock.” Justice, like water, purifies itself by motion, when it “runs down like a stream:” if it be a standing water, it corrupts, and corruptio optimorum pessima. If this neglect proceed from enmity to Christ, then, seeing they have the greatest advantages in their hands to do evil, they may “establish wickedness by a law:” they can “push with the horn, and tread down the pasture with their feet.” [Ezek. xxxiv. 18.] “When the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn.” [Prov. xxix. 2.] Or if it proceed from apostasy, then “the revolters are profound to make slaughter.” [Hosea v. 27.] And this happens not so much from the churlish and cruel dispositions of men, as from God’s giving them up judicially to rage against His ways, either as a scourge to his people, or in order to their own ruin. Hence it is noted that the cruellest persecutions were set on foot by emperors, sometimes of the best parts, and most civil dispositions, as Antoninus Philosophus, Trajan, Severus, Decius, &c. Magistrates are for the most part like the prophet’s figs, either very good or very bad: they are the heads of the people, and all diseases in the head are dangerous; so when the leprosy appeared in the head deeper than the skin, the party was pronounced utterly unclean,’ (pp. 13, 14.)

Calamy and Mr Thompson of Stockton thus record the ‘good man’s end:’—‘He went,’ says the former, ‘into the pulpit the last time he was in it under a feverish indisposition, and preached from 2 Cor. v. 2, “For in this we groan, earnestly,” &c.; and to the surprise of all, he rather ‘groaned’ than spake this sermon. The lungs being at that time too tender for work, his disease seized that part, and he was brought home in a peripneumonia, which in ten days put a period to his life.’[59] Mr Thompson, in his ‘Diary,’[60] thus writes:—‘Dr Gilpin, y^t eminent servant of God, died much lamented by all, on (Tuesday) Feb. 13, 1699/1700, about eight o’clock in y^e morning.’[61] He was interred in the churchyard of All Saints, Newcastle. And the following is the ‘entry’ in its Register of Burials:—‘1699 [= 1699-1700] Feb. 16. Rich. Gilpin, doctor of physick.’[62] The ‘scutcheon of the ‘Kentmere’ Gilpins was placed on his coffin. He left a widow, who retired, as her husband had asked, with her family, to Scaleby Castle.

From point to point of our Memoir, it has been our endeavour to bring out the character of Dr Gilpin under his varying circumstances; so that, unless I have failed more than I can suppose, my Readers must by this time—even out of the scanty material which has been left to us—have formed an idea of him, such as will bear me out, I anticipate, in characterising him summarily as a man of no ordinary type, large of soul,—with the spaciousness of genius that has been hallowed,—strong and inevitable in his convictions, quick and sensitive in conscience, intense and full of momentum in whatever he undertook; and, as his ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’ proves, profound, sagacious, keen in his scrutiny of human and celestial-demoniac problems, and one who must have carried sunshine with him wherever he went. His portrait—preserved in Nova Scotia by a descendant, Dr Gilpin of Halifax—as engraved in the earlier edition of Palmer, shews the liquid eye of genius, the mobile lip, the brow compact and packed of brain, a nose somewhat audacious, and a touch of sauciness in the chin, while the long cavalier-like curled ‘locks’ of his wig seem to proclaim the lord of the manor of Scaleby as much as the Preacher; for as Edward Boteler puts it of another, with Fullerian alliteration, ‘Though he was very humble, yet he knew how to be a man and no worm, as well as when to be “a worm and no man.” He knew when to lay his honour in the dust, and when to let no dust be upon his honour.’[63]

I would now bring together several ‘estimates’ of our Worthy by those who knew him well, and thus could form an accurate judgment concerning him. First of all, I am fortunate enough to be able to give, from an old, worn, and weather-stained holograph preserved by Prebendary Gilpin, a quaint ‘Poem,’ which probably represents in portions of it the inscription placed on his ‘monument’—long since mouldered away. Here it is, rude and halting in rhyme and rhythm, but biographically interesting:—

TO THE MEMORY OF YE EXCELLENT DR GILPIN.

In mournfull numbers I did weep of late, Criton the wise,[64] and sweet Philander’s fate,[65] And Calvus,[66] to ye learned world well known. Oppress’d and wth repeated grief borne down, Palæmon’s[67] death succeeding struck me dumb, My tears were all I offer’d at his tomb. Thus th’ Eastern sage[68] wth wondrous patience bore Thrice dismal news, but he could bear no more, Did weep, fall down, and silently adore. My trouble now swells o’er, and artless strays, Where nature yields, and passion leads ye ways. Thou man of peace! born in our publick rage, Designed to correct ye giddy age: Thy solid judgment did resist ye flame, In midst of civil fury still ye same. When the grave world run madly uniform, Serene within thou weather’d out ye storm. The miter thou refused with a brow Wch calmness shew’d, and resolution too. Esteemed by ye good, by ill men fear’d, By ye wise admired, and followed by ye herd. Ev’n Satan did trembling on thy lectures wait, When thou display’d his mysteries of state. Begg’d leave to plague thee, but he begg’d in vain, Vowing revenge upon ye list’ning train. Great prophet! who could’st prudently dispense, With a becoming warmth, substantial sense; In such a manner thou thy God addrest As both thy rev’rence and thy wants exprest. Thy zeal was not confined to th’ sacred chair, But bright through all thy actions did appear. Thy spotless life thy doctrine best apply’d, Truth recommending wch thou first had try’d.

Our honour and defence[69] with thee depart, The gift of preaching and ye healing art. J. H.

Artes infernas Divinà Gilpinus arte Detexit, vicit, jam requiescit ovans. Id.

Presbyterûm præses, præco optimus, et medicinæ Doctor Gilpinus, conditur hoc tumulo. T. P.

Fitly accompanying this ‘elegy’ and—as verse little superior but—similarly valuable as a ‘testimony,’ come the lines of Dr Harle, which Horsley thus prefaces:—‘I have oft heard him mention the severe shock the death of Dr Gilpin gave him.’ His tribute to Gilpin occurs in a ‘copy of verses upon the death of the Rev. John Turnbull of North Shields.’ It is as follows:—

‘How oft have we with admiration hung On the angelic Gilpin’s pow’rful tongue, Who in perfection had the mighty art, To form the soul and captivate the heart; Pour Gospel balm into the wounded soul, And vengeance on the harden’d conscience rowl. When he hell’s gloomy stratagems did clear[70] Man ceased, and Satan then began to fear His empire’s utter ruin drawing near. Great man! whom goodness did to greatness raise, Nor forced applause, nor warmly courted praise. The tempting dignity he did despise Made him more glorious still in good men’s eyes.’[71] (As before, pp. 20, 21.)

I have next to set forth the famous ‘story’ of THOMAS STORY the Quaker missionary-preacher—of his interviews with Dr Gilpin; wherein it will be seen he shews the deepest respect for him, albeit in his self-opinionativeness unconvinced of the erroneous tendency of his ‘views’ and practice. These ‘notes’ are found in a folio that has now gone out of sight, and become among the rarest of rare Quaker books.[72] The narrative is too tedious for reproduction in full; but a specimen will interest. Having told of his conversion to the principles of Quakerism, and more especially of the result of the reading of ‘three small books,’ he goes on: ‘Some time after this, [1691,] Dr Gilpin, before mentioned, sent his son, a counsellor-[at-law], under whom I had been initiated into the study of the law, and who was one of those at the tavern aforesaid, and still retained a great affection for me—to invite me to his house at Scaleby Castle, and desired to see some of the Quakers’ books, supposing I had been imposed upon by reading them; and I sent him, as I remember, all that I had. Soon after I had parted with these books, I observed a cloud come over my mind and an unusual concern; and therein the two sacraments—commonly so termed—came afresh into my remembrance, and divers scriptures and arguments pro and con: and then I was apprehensive the Doctor was preparing something of that sort to discourse me upon; and I began to search out some scriptures in defence of my own sentiments on those subjects: but as I proceeded a little in that work I became more uneasy and clouded: upon which I laid aside the Scripture and sat still, looking towards the Lord for counsel. For I considered the Doctor as a man of great learning, religious in his way, an ancient preacher and writer too, famous in Oliver’s time, and a “throne” among his brethren: and that he might advance such subtilties as I could not readily confute nor would concede to, as knowing them erroneous, though I might not be suddenly furnished with arguments to demonstrate their fallacy; and so might receive hurt. And then it was clear in my understanding that as he was in his own will and strength, though with a good intent, in his own sense, searching the letter [of the Scripture,] and depending upon that and his own wisdom, acquirements, and subtilty, leaning to his own spirit and understanding, I must decline that way and trust in the Spirit of Christ, the divine Author of the Holy Scriptures. And as this caution was presented in the life and virtue of truth, I rested satisfied therein, and searched no further on that occasion. When I went to his house, he entered into a discourse on those subjects; and had such passages of Scripture folded down as he purposed to use. And when I observed it, I was confirmed that my sight of him in my own chamber at Carlisle, and of his work some days before, was right, [as if, to intercalate a remark, it needed prescience to foretell that the Doctor’s appeal would be ‘to the Law and to the Testimony’!!] and my mind was strengthened thereby. But before he began to move upon the subject, he dismissed every other person out of the room, so that himself and I remained alone. The first thing he said was, in a calm manner, to admonish me to be very cautious how I espoused the errors of the Quakers; for he had heard of late and with concern that I had been among them, or seemed to incline that way. I answered that I had not been much among them, nor seen any of their books but those I had sent him, and knew not of any errors they held. Yes, said he, they deny the ordinances of Christ, the two sacraments—Baptism and the Lord s Supper; and then opened his book [his!] at one of his down-folded leaves, where he read thus, 1 Cor. i. 2, xi. 23, 26....’ Now follows the usual delusive appeals beyond the ‘letter,’ as ‘carnal,’ and all the unconsciously-blaspheming, ‘setting-aside,’ of plain words that reveal ‘the mind of the Spirit,’ commingled with a simple-minded self-superiority which need not be illustrated. Very patient and wonderingly-silent must have been the Doctor with his undoubtedly pious and acute, but most perverse, visitor. He thus closes, ‘The Doctor did not oppose this, [about prayer,] but only said I had given him better satisfaction on that point than he had found in the book; and afterwards he was much more free and familiar with me than before, or than I expected: and so we parted in friendship, and I returned in peace and gladness,’[73] (pp. 41-45.)

But by far the most important, as it is the most elaborate, ‘estimate’ of our Worthy, is that of Calamy, who, usually marked by judicial calm, and chary of praise, glows and burns in the fulness of his admiration. The fervour of his eulogy of Gilpin contrasts with his usual matter-of-fact statements, and surprises by its suddenness and passion. With this I shall close those personal tributes by contemporaries. Thus the ‘Account’ under ‘Grastoke’ runs:—

‘Richard Gilpin, M.D. He was designed by God for great work in his church, and was singularly qualified for it. He had a large share of natural abilities, which he had wonderfully improved by an unwearied industry and long and hard study, so that there was scarce anything that accomplished a man, a scholar, a physician, or divine, but he possessed it in great perfection.

‘His stature was of the middle sort, rather inclining to the lesser size; but his presence was far from being mean. There was a pleasing mixture of majesty and sweetness, affableness and gravity in his aspect. He could readily set his countenance to a severity or mildness as the business or persons he had to do with required; and he did it not by any artificial affectation, but naturally and with ease, in such a way as kept up the dignity of his profession, and to such an end as made religion both more awful and more alluring.

‘He had a delicate, fine, and polite fancy, expressing itself in a plenty of words, which gave clear and lively images of things, and kept up the life, strength, and elegancy of the English tongue.

‘His memory was strong and faithful, and gave back with great exactness what he committed to it, though it was a treasury of very great reading, and filled with variety of matter in several sciences.

‘To these was added a most penetrating, discerning judgment. This enabled him in reading to choose well, and to form a just opinion of the sentiments of others, which was always with that candour as made another considerable addition to his many excellences.

‘He had so well digested all necessary parts of learning that he had them in readiness when he needed them. He used such things in their proper place, and adorned his discourses with them as there was occasion; and was able to make that which was little else but pageantry appear with a due gracefulness and beautiful in its season.

‘As he had a rich fund of sense, learning, experience, and reading to fit him for a divine, so he had all the qualifications necessary for a preacher in the highest degree that can well be thought attainable. The several endowments that make a man a true, divine, orator did jointly meet in him.

‘He had a voice strong enough to command the most usual public places of divine worship. It was piercing and sweet, and naturally well modelled. He had the true skill of fixing an accent upon particular words where the matter needed it. There was a force attended his way of speaking without an undue transport. He was vigorous and vehement, but under great conduct. His expressions were conceived and his sermons delivered without the use of notes: and he was qualified for that way of preaching. His pregnant memory, his ready invention, his great presence of mind, his natural fluency, that made him able to speak well and gracefully, with ease and assurance, entitled him to it. He could clothe any matter in apt words, with all the ornaments of a regular elocution. He fell neither into too swift an utterance, nor was forced upon any unbecoming, unguarded expressions. There was no restraint upon his delivery by being thus managed. It made him only capable of speaking what he did with much greater warmth and life and decency of gesture. It had all the smoothness of style and propriety of words to make it acceptable. It had all the graces of natural oratory, all the decencies of behaviour to recommend it. And that which completed all, it came from a serious mind, the concern of which was visibly to be read both in his countenance and expressions. He spoke from his very heart, as appeared sometimes in the force of his words, sometimes in his tears, and usually in both. He spake with solemnity and seriousness, with gravity and majesty, and yet with so much meekness mixed with all, as declared him to be a man of God and ambassador of Christ. There was a lively air of delivery, a sacred vehemence of affection in what he spake, that were very much his peculiar talent. He knew how to temper his discourses with due motion. His gestures were admirably taking and graceful, and further expressive of what he was delivering. In prayer he was likewise most solemn and fervent, and usually expressed himself much in Scripture language, and with a flood of affection. The very fountains of it seemed in the performance of that duty to be broken up and the great deep of it opened. It often forced him to silence for a little till it had flowed out at his eyes. In his pulpit discourses he was a very great example, both as to the design and method of them. His design was vast and noble in the ordinary course of his preachings. He usually proposed some subject, and pursued it on various texts. Every head with its enlargements was closely studied, and his particulars under each general were admirably chosen. If he had ever so many, none could be wanting; if never so few, there seemed to need no more. In the handling of any subject, after he had explained and proved what he had undertaken, with a great deal of clearness and affection, he was most plain, familiar, and moving in his applications. His way in these was another particular talent that he had. In all his uses he was excellent, but mostly so in his exhortations. He made them as so many set discourses of persuasion. They were delivered with most address and greatest warmth and vigour. He entered upon them usually with some rousing, lively preface to gain attention, and then offered his motives, which were prosecuted with the most pungent expressions. Here his earnestness increased, together with his voice, and the vehemency of it. He had a feeling apprehension of the importance of what he was then urging upon his hearers, and every word was big with concern of mind. He affected an elaborate eloquence at no time, but least of all then. In easy but moving expressions, and with a distinguishing πάθος he would plead with sinners sometimes for a whole sermon together, without flagging in his affections or suffering his attentive hearers to do it in theirs. He was a man of a distinguishing knowledge and experience in the mysteries of Christianity; and of a discerning spirit in understanding a work of grace upon the hearts of others. With a clear head and searching skill in divine things, he had a sincere and warm heart. The fire of zeal and the light of knowledge accompanied one another. He kept up a serious temper at all times and in all places and company, without much discernible alteration or abatement; but this did not in the least sour his disposition, which was cheerful, though thinking and solid. His skill in government appeared in the managing a numerous congregation of very different opinions and tempers. His integrity, modesty, and contempt of the world, in refusing the bishopric of Carlisle, as another of the family (Mr Bernard Gilpin) had done before him, consonant to their motto, dictis factisque simplex. The care of the churches lay upon him. His unblamable character had obtained amongst all but those whose ill-nature would suffer them to speak well of none who differed from them. He was much respected by many for the good he had done them as a physician. Among persons of rank and quality in the parts where he lived, all necessary means were scarce thought to have been used if he had not been consulted. He went about doing good to the souls and bodies of men. This world was not in his eye, none could charge him with anything like covetousness.’

Be it remembered that these are the ‘words’ in every case, of men who knew not to flatter, and spake out of ‘perfect knowledge.’ Above all, be it specially remembered that I have been quoting from no ‘Funeral Sermon,’ with its almost inevitable exaggerations.

* * * * *

It only remains that I give a complete annotated list of the extant writings of Dr Gilpin, arranged chronologically as published, also an account of the manuscript of Dæmonologia Sacra, and the destruction of other MSS.

I. The Agreement of the Associated Ministers and Churches of the Counties of Cumberland and Westmerland [sic.]. With something for Explication and Exhortation annexed. London: Printed by T. L., for Simon Waterson, and are sold at the sign of the Globe, in Paul’s Churchyard, and by Richard Scot, Bookseller in Carlisle. 1656. Pp. 59. 4to.

⁂ In the copy of above in St Patrick’s (Cathedral) Library, (Marsh’s,) at p. 52, there is a careful correction in Gilpin’s autograph of Carolostadius for Oecolompadius, which itself confirms the authorship. There is no name on title-page or elsewhere; but Calamy gives it in his enumeration. Account, vol. ii. p. 157.

II. The Temple Rebuilt: a Discourse on Zachery vi. 13. Preached at a Generall Meeting of the Associated Ministers of the County of Cumberland, at Keswick, May 19. By Richard Gilpin, Pastor of the Church at Graistock, in Cumberland. London: Printed by E. T., for Luke Fawne, at the Parrot, in Paul’s Churchyard, and are to be sold by Richard Scott, Bookseller in Carlisle. 1658. 4to. Ep. Dedy., pp. 6, and 40. On reverse of title-page is this note: ‘We, the Associate Ministers of the County of Cumberland, do earnestly desire our reverend brother, Mr Richard Gilpin, to print his acceptable Sermon preached this day at our Generall Meeting.

TIMOTHY TULLIE, Modr. pro Temp. JOHN JACKSON, Scribe.’

⁂ My own copy has inscribed in Gilpin’s autograph, ‘Ex dono Authoris,’ and again misprints are carefully corrected.

III. Disputatio Medica Inauguralis de Hysterica Passione, quam Præside Deo Opt. Max. ex autoritate magnifici D. Rectoris D. Johannis Coccii, in Inclytâ Lugd. Batav. Academia Eloquentiæ et Historiarum Professoris celeberrimi nec non amplissimi Senatûs Academici, Consensu et Almæ Facultatis Medicæ Decreto, Pro Gradu Doctoratus, Summisque in Medicina Honoribus ac Privilegiis legitime obtinendis, Eruditorum examini subjicit Richardus Gilpin, Anglus Cumbriens. Die 6 Julii, loco horisque solitis, ante merid. Lugduni Batavorum, Apud Viduam et Haeredes Johannis Elsevirii Academiæ Typograph. 1676. 4to. Pp. 8.

⁂ The following is the dedication to his (second) father-in-law: ‘Celeberrimo et virtute maxime conspicuo viro Gulielmo Brisco de Crofton, in Comitatu Cumbriæ Armigero, Socero suo venerando. Hanc Disputationem Inauguralem observantiæ signum offert et inscribit Richardus Gilpin.’

IV. Dæmonologia Sacra. 1677. 4to. See our reprint, pp. 2, 7, 126, 312, for general and special title-pages.

⁂ In our ‘Prefatory Note,’ I have characterised this the most important of Gilpin’s works, and add here a little from the Barnes’ ‘Memoirs,’ (as before,) and from one well capable of pronouncing an opinion. 1. Barnes: ‘What had greatly raised Dr Gilpin’s fame was his treatise of “Satan’s Temptations,” which, in imitation of a book of King James I., he entitled “Dæmonologia Sacra,” the largest and completest of any extant upon that subject. Being out of print, both it and an account of its author, and others of his writings, may be given the world when his posterity think it convenient, (pp. 145, 146.) 2. John Ryland, M.A.: ‘If ever there was a man that was clearly acquainted with the cabinet-councils of hell, this author is the man,’ [in his ‘Cotton Mather.’]

V. The Comforts of Divine Love: Preached upon the Occasion of the much Lamented Death of the Reverend Mr Timothy Manlove. With his Character, done by another Hand. London. 1700. 12mo. Epistle, pp. 2. Character, pp. 4. Sermons, pp. 46.

⁂ The Williams’ copy is marked contemporaneously ‘16th January 1699.’ Prefixed is a portrait of Dr Manlove—for, like Gilpin and Pringle, he too was an M.D.—by Vander Gucht.

VI. An Assize Sermon, Preached before Judge Twisselton and Serg. Bernard at Carlisle, September the 10th, Anno 1660. And Now Publish’d and Recommended to the Magistrates of the Nation, as a Means, by God’s Blessing, to quicken them to a serious Pursuit of the Honourable and truly Religious Design, for the Reformation of Manners, which is now on foot, and Countenanced by the Nobility, Bishops, and Judges, in the late Account of the Societies for the Reformation of Manners, and applauded by the Serious and Religious Men of all Persuasions. By R. Gilpin, now Minister of the Gospel in Newcastle-upon-Tyne. London: Printed for Tho. Parkhurst, at the Bible and Three Crowns, near Mercers Chapple; and Sarah Burton, Bookseller at Newcastle. 1700. 4to.

I have now to notice the MANUSCRIPTS of Gilpin. By the courtesy of the Rev. Bernard Gilpin, Bengeo, Hertford, I have had confided to me the original holograph of ‘Dæmonologia Sacra,’ and in our reprint I have found it clearing up occasional misprints and mis-pointings. The MS. is not complete; the collation is as follows: General title and three special titles, pp. 3. To the Reader, pp. 6, signed ‘Rich. Gilpin.’ Treatise on to Part II., page 255, (in our edition,) ending in line 21st from top, 4 disqui[eting].’ The penmanship is clear and legible, with few erasures, and having a margin on either side. On the top of the page whereon Part I. begins, there is the date, ‘Newcastle, July 9, 1671.’[74] Further: Calamy, in his ‘Account,’ thus mentions a manuscript treatise of which he had heard: ‘Among other things he hath left behind him in manuscript, a valuable Treatise concerning The Pleasantness of the Ways of Religion; and in whatsoever hands it lies, it is pity but it should see the light,’ (vol. ii. p. 157.) It is to be lamented that this appeal was not responded to, as Prebendary Gilpin records sorrowfully its loss as follows: ‘Among his other papers was found a treatise of considerable length, prepared, as it seemed, for the press, “On the Pleasures of Religion.” This MS., and several other MSS. of Dr Gilpin’s, consisting chiefly of heads and divisions of sermons, from which he used commonly to preach, fell into the hands of the author of this memoir; and being deposited in a box with other papers, and placed in the corner of a closet, were attacked by what is commonly called dry damp, and were almost entirely spoiled. If anything had been interposed between the bottom of the box and the floor so as to have suffered the air to circulate, the mischief had been prevented;’ and what levity in the custodier of so precious a legacy that this little care was neglected. Mr Gilpin of Juniper Green writes me concerning these spoiled MSS.: ‘Nevertheless [i.e., notwithstanding their utter destruction by the dry-rot] my mother kept the fragments all the days of her life with great veneration. But now these relics—they were little better than ashes—of our ancestor have perished.’

I have thus done my best to revivify the story of RICHARD GILPIN, His highest ‘record’ is ‘on high;’ but those who love the memory of our Worthy, will, it is hoped, accept kindly our endeavours to keep his grave green, and to import, so to speak, personality to the name in an old title-page—of one who did valiant service for The Master:

‘Sword and spear he might not wield, But with faith his heart to shield, Marched he to the battle-field.’—[‘Paradisus Animæ.’]

And so I close with like verses by leal-hearted Sir Egerton Brydges:

‘His tongue, the Spirit’s two-edged sword, Had magic in its blade; For while it smote with every word, It healed the wounds it made. Yet, who so humbly walked as he, A conqueror in the field; Wreathing the rose of victory Around his radiant shield!’ ALEXANDER B. GROSART.

LIVERPOOL.

APPENDIX TO MEMOIR.

A.—Page xvi.—ANCESTRY AND DESCENDANTS OF THE GILPINS.

The different ‘County’ Historians, and Works on the old families of England, give more or less full details concerning the Gilpins in all their many branches. The ‘Arms’ are Or, a boar passant sable, armed and tusked Gules. A fine book-plate of this adorns Prebendary Gilpin’s Family Manuscript. These ‘Arms’ are hereditarily understood to have been derived from the fact that a Richard de Gylpyn or Gilpin—who is regarded as the founder of the house—killed a wild boar which had infested the neighbourhood of Kentmere, in the reign of King John. [See Nicholson and Burns’ ‘Antiquities of Westmoreland and Cumberland,’ (as before,) vol. i. pp. 135-137.] This is confirmed by Sir Daniel Fleming’s Collection of Pedigrees, in the possession of Sir W. Fleming of Rydal, Co. Westm. Bart. A.D. 1713; and is given by Bishop Carleton in his Life of Bernard Gilpin. From these authorities, and various other Family documents, I construct this genealogy of the elder House:—

1. Richard ... founder. He a son, 2. William, who married a daughter of Thomas Ayray, bailiff of Kentmere. He a son, 3. Richard, who married daughter of Fleming of Coningston, from whom many descendants are found in and around Kendal. He a son, 4. William. He a son, 5. Richard. He a son, 6. William, a captain at Bosworth field, and there killed. He a brother, 7. Edwin, two of whose sons were distinguished—viz., (1.) The ambassador of Queen Elizabeth to the States of Holland. (2.) Bernard, the ‘Apostle of the North,’ was the fourth son. He, [i.e., Edwin,] a son, 8. William. He a son, 9. George. He a son, 10. William. He a son, 11. George. He succeeded by, 12. Christopher Gilpin, a half brother of George, in whom the direct male line ended. The ‘Kentmere’ estate sold to Sir Charles Philipson.—[N. and B.—as before.]—William, son of Richard, [= the 4th of our list,] married a daughter of Thomas Lancaster of Sockbred, who descended of the baron of Kendal. His son Richard, again [= 5th in our list,] married a daughter of Sir Rowland Thornborroux, knight of Rampsell. This Richard married as his second wife Margaret Layton = Enwine, second daughter of Thomas Layton of Dalemaine, who had several sons—Anthony, Thomas, Sir William, Sir Bryan, Sir Cuthbert, Sir Richard, all famous men, mostly soldiers, and some knights of Rhodes. His daughters also intermarried with Redman, Carelton, Clyborne, and Vaux. We may now tabulate the descent. From Richard, and his second wife, Margaret Layton, comes—

Randall = Sykes. │ ├————————┬——————-┬—————————┬————————┬—————————-┐ │ │ │ │ │ │ Richard. John. Francis. George. Bernard. 2 daughters. │ ┌———-——-┼——-—-—-——┬———-—-——-┬————-—-—-┬————-—-┬———-—--┬———-—-—┐ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ William George. Randall. Bernard Richard. Caly. Mary. Margaret. = Eliz. of Houghton │ Washington. le Spring. │father of Isaac, father │ of our Dr Gilpin. │ ┌—┼————————-┬———————┬———————┬————————┬————————-┬———————-┬——————-┐ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ George. 2d son. 3d son. 4th son. 5th son. 6th son. 7th son. 3. │ daughters William = * * * * Sandforth. │ George.

[See Hutchinson’s ‘History of Durham,’ vol. ii. 703, account of the Gilpins, from a paper in the hands of Mr Rob. Sober of Sherburn, near Durham, without date.—Randall MSS. The last George, at the time of making out Sober’s pedigree, is said to be living, and owner of the ancient house of the Gilpins, Kentmere Hall.]

Turning to Dr Richard Gilpin, I have had two elaborate pedigrees (of descent) entrusted to me, by the former of which, it appears our Worthy had a very large family by, (as I understand,) his two wives. By this also I find that his second wife was born ‘Oct. 15th, 1625,’ eldest daughter of William Brisco of Crofton—her name Susannah. I have a suspicion that the first Mrs Gilpin died at Greystoke, and that the Doctor re-married before leaving it; but owing to the time-worn state of the Greystoke ‘Registers,’ all the entries that remain concerning Dr Gilpin’s family are the two children given in our Memoir. Following William and Susannah were, 1. Isaac, born July 12, 1658; married Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas Clagget. Then, 2. Susanna, born Nov. 27th, 1659; married Matthew Parlis, minister. [The former Susannah must have died as a child.] Then, 3. Anne, who married Sawrey of Broughton Tower, Esq. [On this marriage, see Barnes’ ‘Memoir,’ as before, pp. 142, 143.] She was born December 5th, 1660. Then, 4. Elizabeth, born Aug. 3, 1662; died unmarried. Then, 5. Richard: died of a blow of his schoolmaster. Then, 6. Mary, born Dec. 28th, 1666; died unmarried. Then, 7. Dorothy, born Aug. 13, 1668; married, (1.) Jabez Cay, M.D.; (2.) Eli Fenton. Then, 8. John, born Feb. 13, 1669. [More of him immediately.] Then, 9. Francis, born July 27, 1671; ob. infant. Then, 10. Bernard, born Oct. 6, 1672, died in his youth at Jamaica, unmarried. Then, 11. Francis, born Jan. 27, 1675, died in infancy. Then, 12. Thomas, born July 27, 1677, died unmarried, June 20, 1700. Returning upon John, [eighth of this list,] he married Hannah, daughter of Robert Cay, Esq. of Newcastle, and left large issue, as follows: 1. Richard, born April 9, 1700, (soon after his grandfather died,) died unmarried, 1723. 2. Robert, born 17th Aug. 1702, married Ruth, daughter of Reynold Hall of Newbiggen, Esq. [More of this pair immediately.] 3. William, born Jan. 1, 1700 (?), married Mary, daughter of Thomas Dickenson, clerk. 4. John, born 1st Sept. 1705. 5. Thomas, born Jan. 8, 1711, ob. 12 March 1713. 6. Susanna. 7. A daughter. 8. Barbara, born 16th May 1710, wife of Braithwaite of Stockton. 9. Susanna, born 28th April 1712, wife of Isaac Cookson of Newcastle. 10. Hannah, born 22d May 1715, wife of.... Goldsmith. Returning again upon Robert, [second of the list from John,] he had issue—1. John, who married daughter of John Cookson of London. He took the name of Sawrey on succeeding to the Broughton Tower estate. 2. Richard, died in East Indies. 3. Ruth. 4. 5. Jer. (?). William, [third of list from John,] had issue—1. Thomas, ob. an infant. 2. John, dead 1809. 3. Robert, ib. 4. Hannah, married. 5. William, died 18th September æt. 67. So much for the first paper. Now for the second, which gives the descendants of the eldest son of Dr Gilpin, viz., William, born, as stated in Memoir, at Greystoke, 5th Sept. 1657. He became a barrister-at-law, justice of the peace, and deputy vice-admiral for county Cumberland, and recorder of the city of Carlisle; bought Highfield Moor and the tithes of Crosby; died at Scaleby Castle, Aug. 14, 1724, æt. 67. He married Mary, eldest daughter and one of the co-heiresses of Henry Fletcher of Talantyre. The issue were—1. Susan Maria, born at Scaleby Castle, 10th Nov. 1689, wife of Joshua Dacre Appleby of Kirklevington, by whom she had issue—[will be enumerated immediately]. 2. Anne, born April 14, 1691. 3. Richard, born 6th Feb. 1692, married Mary, daughter of Enoch Hudson. 4. Dorothy, ob. an infant. 5. Henry, ibid. 6. William, born at Whitehaven, married Margaret, daughter of G. Langstaff. 7. Henry, born Oct. 1692, ob. at Jamaica. 8. John Bernard, born at Scaleby, Jan. 24, 1701, ob. circa 1776, buried at Carlisle Cathedral. He married Matilda, eldest daughter of George Langstaff, ob. circa 1773, buried at Carlisle. 9. Dorothy, born at Scaleby, wife of Eaglivfield Griffith, born 4th Nov. 1703. 10. George, born at Scaleby, 29th Aug. 1706, married Elizabeth, third daughter of George Langstaff. Returning on Susan Maria, [eldest daughter,] she had a daughter, Elizabeth, born at Whitehaven, Feb. 12, 1708, ob. an infant, and a son, William, born June 1724, ob. at Whitehaven, 4th Dec. 1779. He married Elizabeth Hodgson, daughter of Robert Hodgson of Whitehaven, died at Denbigh Castle, 25th April 1792, æt. 60. They had issue—1. William Gilpin, born at Whitehaven, 12th Nov. 1758, ob. 15th Oct. 1822, at East Sheen, Surrey, having married Sarah, daughter of George Holland, Esq. of London, in 1793. Finally returning on John Bernard, [eighth, supra,] he was father of the Rev. William Gilpin, vicar of Boldre, prebendary of Salisbury, died April 5, 1804 at Boldre, æt 80. He will not soon be forgotten, as his delightful books, with their carefully finished ‘Illustrations’ on ‘Picturesque Beauty,’ are gathering increasing value as they become older. He had issue by his first cousin. John Bernard Gilpin, Esq., who went to Philadelphia, and afterwards became British Consul at Rhode Island. His descendants are now partly in Nova Scotia, [J. Bernard Gilpin, Esq., M.D., Halifax,] and in England and Scotland; and Rev. William Gilpin, born April 8, 1757, rector—an excellent and venerable man, and clergyman—in county Salop; and Sawrey Gilpin, born Oct. 30, 1733, ob. 1808. For the two Papers whence most of the preceding details have been collected, I owe thanks to my friend Joshua Wilson, Esq., Nevil Park, Tunbridge Wells. I may add that in Prebendary Gilpin’s Family-Manuscript there are ‘Memoirs’ of William Gilpin, Esq., the recorder of Carlisle, containing valuable and interesting letters to and from the Lowther family. The ‘Recorder’ was a man of mark. His portrait is at Scaleby Castle. Next, severally William ‘merchant at Whitehaven,’ [See Story, as before.] Henry, of ‘the Navy,’ Thomas, John Bernard, Anne, Dorothy, Susannah Maria, the eldest daughter, who must have been a lady of uncommon originality and force of character, and largeness of heart. [As above. She was married to Dacre Appleby, Esq. of Kirklinton, contiguous to Scaleby Castle. Curiously enough, their eldest son married a daughter of the Bishop of Carlisle. Mrs Appleby ‘was followed by all the country, in tears, to her grave.’] John Bernard,—a very capital ‘Memoir’ of a gallant soldier. Somerville, in ‘The Chase,’ refers to the Windsor ‘roads’ constructed under his military supervision. He was a familiar friend of the good Colonel Gardiner. There are glimpses of the Rebellion of 1745 in this Memoir, throwing light on events at Carlisle. At ‘leisure hours’ he cultivated painting, and when he lived at Carlisle, he had sometimes half a dozen young people, or more, who used occasionally to attend him for instruction.’ Of these some became famous, e.g., John Smith, whom Lord Warwick sent to Rome, Robert Smirke, Esq., R.A., Mrs Head, &c. The Prebendary, in his MS., here gives also an account of literary society of the period, including Warburton, Dr Brown, and others. There are Letters of this many-gifted man, revealing a very beautiful and tender veneration for his departed wife, whose loss he ‘mourned unto the grave.’ The correspondence between Mr and Mrs Bernard Gilpin is striking and brilliant. Sawrey Gilpin, R.A., of Knightsbridge, their son, became celebrated as an animal painter. Sir J. D. A. Gilpin, another son, was knighted for his long services in America, West Indies, and Gibraltar. He was a friend of Washington’s. Catherine, sister of the two last, born at Scaleby Castle, 1738, was a woman of rare intellect, and a friend of Miss Blamire, the sweet Poetess of Cumberland. In a new edition of Miss Blamire’s ‘Poems and Songs,’ recently published, there are given some by Miss Gilpin, equal to the others. She died at Carlisle in 1811. Even these bare names and dates will suffice to reveal a Family distinguished in well-nigh every department of human achievement, to be placed in their hereditary talent with the Hunters, Gregorys, and Browns, and equally remarkable in their hereditary piety and worth, as well where they belonged to the Church of England as where they held true to Nonconformity, and their descent from the great and good Dr RICHARD GILPIN.

* * * * *

B.—Page xix.—GILPINS AT OXFORD.

The following memoranda are taken from the three Lists of Queen’s College, as detailed:—

I. From the List of Fellows:

1555. Gilpin. [In another and later hand this note is appended:

‘Bernardus (ni fallor) R^r de Houghton le Spring in Com. Dunelm. V. Batesii Vitas clar. virorum, p. 284.’ The apostle.]

1569. Richard Gilpin. 1572. Joshua Gilpin,

II. From the List of Entries:

1594. Term. Mic. Gilpin. 1602. ” Pasch. ” 1610. ” ” ” 1614. ” ” ” b, [= ‘bateller,’ or exhibitioner.] 1631. ” ” Samuel Gilpin, b, [ibid.]

III. From the List of Matriculations:

1602. } Franciscus Gilpin, Lancastrensis filius ministri verbi Dei. Oct. 15. } Nat. An. 17.

C.—Page xix.—NOTICES OF GILPINS.

The following extract from N. and B. ‘History,’ (as before,) vol. i. p. 130, shews the Gilpins were freeholders in Strickland as early as the days of Queen Bess: ‘And in the 14 Eliz. William Parr, marquis of Northampton, died seised thereof [i.e., of the manor of Strykeland Rogers] and the same was assigned to his widow for dower, and the particulars in the rental made thereof was as follows: manor of Strickland Roger: freeholders there, Edward Lancaster, Esquire, 26s. 8d.: John Master, Esquire, 11s. 9d.: William Gilpin, 9s. 9d. Total of the (customary) rent of this manor £15, 14s. 5d.: ten shillings paid yearly by Mr Lancaster’s tenants, to be free of their gift from the lord’s will, being part of the said sum.’ Further, this notice occurs under Chapel of Crosthwaite in parish of Heversham, ‘The chancel and steeple of this chapel were built by one William Gilpin, who also contributed largely towards the three bells, in 1626: on which bells are the following inscriptions: on the first bell: “Jesus, be our speed:” the second bell: “Soli Deo gloria:” the third bell:

“A young man grave in godliness William Gilpin by name Gave forty pounds to make these sounds To God’s eternal fame.” [Vol. I. p. 215.]

DÆMONOLOGIA SACRA.

NOTE.

For account of the holograph MS. of ‘Dæmonologia Sacra’—still in the larger portion preserved—see our Memoir in loco. The original edition of the book forms a handsome quarto. The general title-page will be found below: the special ones of Parts I., II., and III. in their respective places. There have been at least two reprints, but none comparable with the first. Our text is a careful reprint of the Author’s own edition, collated in all doubtful places with the MS. as above. Mr Gilpin very largely quotes Scripture, without giving the book, chapter, and verse; we have made up the deficiency by filling all in, within brackets.—G.

DÆMONOLOGIA SACRA.

OR, A

TREATISE

OF

Satans Temptations:

In Three Parts.

By RICHARD GILPIN.

2 Cor. 2. 11. We are not ignorant of his Devices.

LONDON, Printed by J. D. for Richard Randel, and Peter Maplisden, Booksellers in New Castle upon Tine. 1677.

TO THE READER.

The accurate searches into the secrets of nature which this age hath produced, though they are in themselves sufficient evidences of a commendable industry, yet, seeing they fall so exceedingly short of that discovery which men aim at—giving us at best but probable conjectures and uncertain guesses—they are become as little satisfactory to men that look after the true causes of things, as those ‘ships of desire’ whose great undertaking for gold had raised high expectations in their attempts, but in the return brought nothing home for their ventures but ‘apes and peacocks,’[1 Kings x. 22, and 2 Chron. ix. 21.] While men reflect upon themselves under such disappointments, they cannot but check themselves, for over-promising themselves in their adventures, with that of Zophar, ‘Vain man would be wise,’ [Job xi. 12.]

But how happy would it be for men if such failures of expectation might better inform them! If our attainments in these pursuits will not bear our charges, nor recompense our pains and loss of time with an answerable profit, though we may see cause sometimes, as a divertisement or recreation, to use them, yet how shall we satisfy ourselves to make them our chief and sole business?

If we knew of nothing of higher concern to us than these, our neglect of greater matters were more excusable; but seeing we are sufficiently instructed that we have more weighty things to look after, such as relate to a certain future estate of happiness or misery, the very discovery of this to a rational being must needs entitle such things to the first and greatest part of his care. He that knows that there is ‘one thing necessary,’ and yet suffers himself to be diverted from the pursuit of that, by ‘troubling himself about many things,’ [Luke x. 41,] is more justly chargeable with folly, than he that neglects his estate, and finds himself no other employment but to pursue feathers in the wind.

Among those things that religion offers to our study, God and our own hearts are the chief. God is the first and last and whole of our happiness; the beginning, progress, and completement of it is from him and in him—for in that centre do all the lines meet; but our heart is the stage upon which this felicity, as to the application of it, is transacted: upon this little spot of earth doth God and Satan draw up their several armies; here doth each of them shew their power and wisdom; this is treated by both; each of them challenge an interest in it; it is attacked on the one side and defended on the other. So that here are skirmishes, battles, and stratagems managed. That man, then, that will not concern himself in his inquiries, how the matter goes in his own heart, what ground is got or lost, what forts are taken or defended, what mines are sprung, what ambuscados laid, or how the battle proceeds, must needs lie under a just imputation of the greatest folly; neither can he be excused in his neglect by the most pressing solicitations of other things that seem to require his attendance upon the highest imaginable pretences of necessity: ‘For what is he profited, that gains the whole world, if he loses his soul?’ [Mark viii. 36.]

But the exact and faithful management of such spiritual inquiries, with their necessary improvement to diligent watchfulness and careful endeavours of resistance, is another manner of work than most men dream of. To discover the intrigues of Satan’s policy, to espy his haunts and lurking-places in our hearts, to note his subtle contrivances in taking advantages against us, and to observe how the pulse of the soul beats under his provocations and deceitful allurements, how far we comply or dissent, requires so much attendance and laborious skilfulness, that it cannot be expected that such men who design no more than to be Christians at the easiest rate, and content themselves with a formal superficiality of religion; or such who, having given up themselves to the deceitful sweets of worldly carnal delights, are not at leisure to engage themselves in so serious a work; or such whose secret guilt of rebellious combination with the devil against God, makes them fearful to consider fully the hazards of that wickedness, which they had rather practise with forgetfulness, lest the review of their ways and sight of their danger should awaken their consciences to give them an unwelcome disquiet; it cannot, I say, be expected that any of these sorts of men, whilst they are thus set, should give themselves the trouble of so much pains and toil as this business doth require.

Upon this consideration I might rationally fix my prognostic of the entertainment of the following treatise. What acceptance soever it may find with such as are cordially concerned for their souls and the realities of religion—and of such I may say as the apostle Paul concerning brotherly love, 1 Thes. iv. 9, as touching this matter, ‘They need not that I write unto them, for they themselves are taught of God’ to be suspicious of Satan’s devices; and by experience they find his deceits so secret, and withal so dangerous, that any help for further discovery and caution must needs be welcome to them; yet—to be sure the prince of darkness, who is always jealous of the least attempts that may be made against his empire, will arm his forementioned subjects against it, and whomsoever else he can prevail upon, by the power of prejudice, to reject it, as urging us to a study more severe or harsh than is consistent either with the lower degrees of knowledge of many, or with that ease which most men desire to indulge to themselves; or as offering such things which they, to save themselves from further trouble, will be willing to call chimeras or idle speculations: and this last I may rather expect, because in this latter age Satan hath advanced so far in his general design against all Christianity, and for the introduction of paganism and atheism, that none now can express a serious conscientious care for holiness and the avoidance of sin, but upon pain of the imputation of silliness or whining preciseness; and none can speak or write of conversion, faith, or grace, but he shall be hazarded by the scoffs of those that are unwilling to judge the private workings of the heart to God-ward, or spiritual exercises of grace, to be any better than conceited whims and unintelligible nonsense: but seeing such men make bold to jeer, not only that language and those forms of speech which the Holy Ghost thought fit to make use of in the Scriptures, but also the very things of ‘Faith,’ ‘Grace,’ and ‘Spirit,’ which are everywhere in the sacred oracles recommended to us with the most weighty seriousness—which with them pass for no better than cheats and fancies—we can easily sit under their contempt; and shall, as we hope, be so far from being jeered out of our religion, that their scorns shall have no more impression upon us than the ravings of a frenzical person that knows not what he speaks.

Notwithstanding these, who are no way considerable for weight, there are, I hope, a great many who seriously employ themselves in the inwards as well as the outwards of religion—and who will not suffer themselves to be persuaded that the apostle obtruded an empty notion upon believers, when he recommended that observable truth to them, Rom. ii. 28, ‘He is not a Jew which is one outwardly,’ &c.; for their sakes have I undertaken this labour of collecting and methodising the grand stratagems and chief ways of delusion of the great deceiver. To these I must particularly account for some few things relating to this discourse. As,

1. That I have satisfied myself in the reasons of the publication of these papers, and do not judge it requisite to trouble any so far as to tell what these reasons are. They who desire to resist such an enemy, and whose experience doth convince them that all helps are necessary, will not need them; and those that are men of scorn or of avowed carelessness will not regard them, though I should declare them.

2. To prevent the misapprehensions, which possibly some may otherwise labour withal, of a monstrous product from one text, because they may observe one text in the front, and no other mentioned throughout the first and second parts; they may know that I made use of several in the preaching of these discourses, as suitable foundations for the several particulars herein mentioned; but in the moulding up of the whole into the method of a treatise, for the ease of the reader, I thought fit to lay aside those introductions—as also many other occasional applications which were proper for sermons, and a great many things which were necessary to be spoken for explication and illustration of these points to a popular auditory—and have only presented the substance in a more close connexion; because if there be any little obscurity that may at first appear to any for want of variety of words, the treatise being under their eye, will be at leisure to attend their review in a second or third reading; which, however, I would recommend earnestly to those that in these concerns do really design to be ‘wise for themselves.’

3. Neither should it seem strange that I have frequently made use of instances from history or other later relations. Whosoever shall consider the nature of the matter treated on will not complain of this as a needless trouble put upon them; yet withal I have been so careful of doing any persons an unkindness, by making too bold with them, that I mentioned no names but such as upon such occasions have been made public by others before. The rest I have only mentioned in the general, discovering their case where it was useful, but concealing the persons.

4. It may perhaps seem a defect, that the several directions, remedies, or counsels which are requisite to be observed in making resistance against Satan are not added, except some few hints in the latter end of the third part, and some other things in that part, in the applications of the several doctrines therein, which I thought fit, upon good grounds, to leave in the order of a preaching method; but such may be pleased to consider that several have performed that part very fully, to whose labours I had rather refer the reader than trouble him with a repetition. It was only my design to endeavour a more full discovery, though every way short of the thing itself, of Satan’s craft, because the knowledge of this is so necessary, and withal others have done it more sparingly. Such as it is, accept and improve for thy spiritual advantage; for that was the end of this undertaking, by him who desires that thy soul may prosper,

RICH. GILPIN.

DÆMONOLOGIA SACRA:

OR, A

TREATISE

OF

Satans Temptations

The First Part.

CONTAINING

A Discourse of the Malice, Power, Cruelty and Diligence of Satan. Of his cunning in Temptation in the general. Of his Method of tempting to Sin. Of his Policies for maintaining his Possession. Of his Deceits for the preventing and spoiling Religious Services and Duties.

By R. G.

2 Cor. 2. 11. We are not ignorant of his Devices.

London, Printed by J. D. for Richard Randel, and Peter Maplisden, Booksellers in New-Castle upon Tine, 1677.

A TREATISE OF SATAN’S TEMPTATIONS.

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Part I

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.—1 PETER V. 8.

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Chapter I

The introduction to the text, from a consideration of the desperate ruin of the souls of men.—The text opened, expressing Satan’s malice, power, cruelty, and diligence.

The souls of men are ‘precious.’ The whole world cannot repair their loss. Hence by God are all men in particular charged with care and watchfulness about them. He hath also set up watchmen and overseers, whose business it is to watch over souls, and in the most strict and careful manner, as those that must ‘give an account,’ [Heb. xiii. 17.]

What can more stir up men to the discharge of this duty than the frequent alarms which we have of the assaults of such an adversary, whose business it is to destroy the soul? ‘The Philistines are upon thee, Samson!’ [Judges xvi. 9;] he fights continually, and useth all the policy and skill he hath for the management of his strength.

Besides, it is a consideration very affecting, when we view the ‘desolations that are made in the earth,’ [Ps. xlvi. 8,] what wounds, what overthrows, what cruelties, slaveries, and captivities these conquered vassals are put to. It was, as some think, an inexcusable cruelty in David against the Ammonites, when he ‘put them under saws, and harrows of iron, and made them pass through the brick-kiln,’ 2 Sam. xii. 31; but this spiritual Pharaoh hath a more grievous ‘house of bondage,’ and iron furnace. Neither is this miserable destruction ended, but will keep pace with time, and shall not cease till Christ shall at his appearance finally conquer him and tread him down. If Xerxes wept to look upon his army through the prospective of devouring time, which, upon an easy foresight, shewed him the death of so great a company of gallant men, we may well weep, as David at Ziklag, till we can weep no more; or as Rachel for her children, ‘refusing to be comforted,’ [Jer. xxxi. 15;] while we consider what a great number of succeeding generations, ‘heaps upon heaps,’ [Judges xv. 16,] will be drawn with him to a consuming Tophet. And could we follow him thither, to hear the cries of his prisoners, the roarings of his wounded, where they ‘curse the day’ that brought them forth, and themselves for their folly and madness in hearkening to his delusions, the dreadful outcries of eternity, and then their ‘rage against heaven’ in cursings and blasphemings, while they have no mitigations or ease, nor the refreshment of ‘a drop of water to cool their tongues,’ [Luke xvi. 24,] we would surely think we could never spend our time better than in opposing such an enemy, and warning men to ‘flee from the wrath to come,’ [Mat. iii. 7,] to take heed they come not into his snare. With what earnestness would we endeavour to persuade men! What diligence would we use to cast water upon these devouring flames, and to pluck men as brands out of the fire! It is true, if Satan had dealt plainly with men, and told them what wages they were to expect, and set a visible mark upon his slaves, or had managed a visibly destructive hostility, men have such natural principles of self-preservation, and of hatred of what appears to be evil, that we might expect they would have fled from him, and still have been upon their guard; but he useth such artifices, such sleights and cozenage, that men are cast into a sleep or a golden dream; while he binds them in chains of darkness they see not their end, the snare, nor the pit; nay, he intoxicates them with a love of their misery, and a delight in helping forward their ruin, so that they are volunteers in his service, and possessed with a madness and rage against all that will not be as willing as themselves to go to hell; but especially if they put forth a compassionate hand to help any out of that gulf of misery, they hate them, they ‘gnash upon them with their teeth,’ and run upon them with utmost violence, as if they had no enemies but these compassionate Samaritans, [Luke x. 33.]

How great is this mystery of darkness! Who shall be able to open the depths of it? Who shall declare it fully to the sons of men, to bring these ‘hidden things to light’? Especially seeing these hellish secrets which are yet undiscovered, are double to those that have been observed, by any that have escaped from his power. He only whose prerogative it is ‘to search the hearts of men’ [Rev. ii. 23] can know, and make known, what is in the heart of Satan; he views all his goings, even those paths which the ‘vulture’s eye hath not seen,’ [Job xxviii. 7,] and can trace those footsteps of his, which leave no more print or track behind them than ‘a ship in the sea, or a bird in the air, or a serpent on a stone,’ [Prov. xxx. 19.]

Yet notwithstanding, we may observe much of his policies; and more would God discover if we did but humbly and faithfully improve what we know already. It is my design to make some discovery of those haunts I have observed, if by that means I may be useful to you, to quicken and awaken you. And first I shall set before you the strength and power of your enemy, before I open his cunning and craft.

There are found in him whatsoever may render an adversary dreadful.

1. As, first, Malice and enmity: ὁ Αντίδικος is a law term, and signifies an adversary ‘at law,’ one that is against our cause; and the text, as some think, heightens this malice, (1.) By the article ὁ, which denotes an arch enemy.[75] (2.) The name Διάβολος, which signifies a slanderer or calumniator—for the word is twice in the New Testament used for a slanderer—shewing his hatred to be so great that it will not stick at lying and falsehood, either in accusing God to us or us to God. Nay, it particularly hints that when he hath in malice tempted a poor wretch to sin, he spares not to accuse him for it, and to load him with all things that may aggravate his guilt or misery, accusing him for more than he hath really done, and for a worse estate than he is really in.[76]

2. Secondly, His power. Under the metaphor of a ‘lion,’ a beast of prey, whose innate property is to destroy, and is accordingly fitted with strength, with tearing paws, and a devouring mouth; that as a lion would rend a kid with ease and without resistance, so are men swallowed up by him as with open mouth, so the word καταπιῄ signifies, he can sup them up at a draught, à καταπίνω.

3. Thirdly, His cruelty: a ‘roaring lion’ implying not only his innate property to destroy, which must be a strange fierceness, but also that this innate principle is heightened and whetted on, as hunger in a lion sharpens and enrages that disposition till he get his prey, so that he becomes raving and roaring, putting an awful majesty upon cruelty, and frighting them out of endeavours or hopes of resistance, and increasing their misery with affrightments and tremblings. Thus Satan shews a fierce and truculent temper, whose power being put forth from such an implacable malice, must needs become rage and fierceness.

4. Fourthly, His diligence: which, together with his cruelty, are consequences of his malice and power; he ‘goes about and seeks.’ He is restless in his pursuit, and diligent, as one that promiseth himself a satisfaction or joyful contentment in his conquests.

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Chapter II

Of the malice of Satan in particular.—The grounds and causes of that malice.—The greatness of it proved, and instances of that greatness given.

I shall first give some account of his malice, by which it shall appear we do not wrong the devil in calling him malicious, the truth of which charge will evidence itself in the following particulars:—

1. First, The devil, though a ‘spirit,’ yet is a proper subject of sin. We need no other evidence for this than what doth by daily experience result from ourselves. We have sins which our spirits and hearts do act, that relate not to the body, called ‘a filthiness of the spirit,’ in contradistinction to the ‘filthiness of the flesh,’ [2 Cor. vii. 1.] It is true, it cannot be denied but that those iniquities which have a necessary dependence upon the organs of the body, as drunkenness, fornication, &c., cannot properly, as to the formality of the act, be laid at Satan’s door, though as a tempter and provoker of these men he may be called the father of these sins; yet the fore-mentioned iniquities, which are of a spiritual nature, are properly and formally committed by him, as lying, pride, hatred, and malice. And this distinction Christ himself doth hint: John viii. 44, ‘When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own,’ where he asserts such spiritual sins to be properly and formally acted by himself. The certainty of all appears in the epithets given him—‘the wicked one,’ ‘the unclean spirit;’ as also those places that speak his fall, ‘They kept not their first estate,’ Jude 6; ‘The angels that sinned,’ 2 Peter ii. 4. If sins spiritual are in a true and proper sense attributed to the devil, then also may malice be attributed to him.

2. Secondly, The wickedness of Satan is capable of increase, a magis et minus. Though he be a wicked spirit, and as to inclination full of wickedness, though so strongly inclined that he cannot but sin, and therefore as God is set forth to us as the fountain of holiness, so is Satan called the author and father of sin, yet seeing we cannot ascribe an infiniteness to him, we must admit that, as to acts of sin at least, he may be more or less sinful, and that the wickedness of his heart may be drawn more out by occasions, motives, and provocations; besides, we are expressly taught thus much, Rev. xii. 12, ‘The devil is come down, having great wrath, because his time is short.’ Where we note (1.) That his wrath is called ‘great,’ implying greater than at other times; (2.) That external motives and incentives, as the shortness of his time, prevail with him to draw forth greater acts of fury.

3. Thirdly, Whatsoever occasions do draw out or kindle malice to a rage, Satan hath met with them in an eminent degree, in his own fall and man’s happiness.[77] Nothing is more proper to beget malice than hurts or punishments, degradations from happiness. Satan’s curse, though just, fills him with rage and fretting against God, when he considers that from the state and dignity of a blessed angel he is cast down to darkness and to the basest condition imaginable. For the part of his curse, which concerned Satan as well as the serpent, ‘Upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shall be thy meat,’ implies a state most base, as the use of the phrase proves: ‘They shall lick the dust of thy feet,’ Isa. xlix. 23; ‘Thine enemies shall lick the dust,’ Ps. lxxii. 9; ‘They shall lick the dust as a serpent,’ Micah vii. 17. Where the spirit is so wicked that it cannot accept the punishment of its iniquity, all punishment is as a poison, and envenoms the heart with a rage against the hand that afflicted it. Thus doth Satan’s fall enrage him, and the more when he sees man enstated into a possibility of enjoying what he hath lost. The envy and pride of his heart boils up to a madness—for that is the only use that the wretchedly miserable can make of the sight of that happiness which they enjoy not, especially if, having once enjoyed it, they are now deprived. This begot the rage and wrath in Cain against Abel, and afterward his murder. The eye of the wicked is evil where God is good. Hence may it be concluded that Satan, being a wicked spirit, and this wickedness being capable of acting higher or lower according to occasions, and with a suitableness thereto, cannot but shew an inconceivable malice against us, our happiness and his misery being such proper occasions for the wickedness of his heart to work upon.

4. Fourthly, This malice in Satan must be great.

(1.) First, If we consider the greatness of his wickedness in so great and total an apostasy. He is so filled with iniquity, that we can expect no small matters from him as to the workings of such cursed principles; not only is he wicked, but the spirit and extract of wickedness, as the phrase signifies, Eph. vi. 12, [πνευματικὰ τῆς πονηρίας.]

(2.) Secondly, The Scripture lays to his charge all degrees, acts, and branches of malice; as [1.] Anger, in the impetuous haste and violence of it. Rev. xii. 12, ‘Great wrath,’ θυμός, there signifies excandescentia, the inflammation of the heart and whole man, which is violent in its motion, as when the blood with a violent stream rusheth through the heart and sets all spirits on fire; and therefore this wrath is not only called great, but is also signified to be so, in its threatening ‘a woe to the inhabitants of the earth.’ [2.] Indignation is more than anger, as having more of a fixed fury; and this is applied to him, Eph. iv. 27, in that those that have this παροργισμὸς, are said ‘to give place to the devil,’ which is true not only in point of temptation, but also in respect of the resemblance they carry to the frame and temper of Satan’s furious heart. [3.] Hatred is yet higher than wrath or indignation, as having deeper roots, a more confirmed and implacable resolution. Anger and indignation are but short furies, ira brevis furor, which, like a land-flood, are soon down, though they are apt to fill the banks on a sudden; but hatred is lasting, and this is so properly the devil’s disposition, that Cain, in hating his brother, is [in] 1 John iii. 12 said to be the proper offspring and lively picture of that ‘wicked one,’ who is there so called rather than by the name of the devil, because the apostle would also insinuate that hatred is the masterpiece of Satan’s wickedness, and that which gives the fullest character of him. [4.] All effects of his cruelty arise from this root; this makes him accuse and calumniate, this puts him upon breathing after those murders and destructions which damned spirits are now groaning under.

(3.) Thirdly, This malice is the result of that curse laid upon Satan: Gen. iii. 15, ‘I will put enmity betwixt thee and the woman, betwixt her seed and thy seed.’ Which implies, [1.] A great enmity; and some render it inimicitias implacabiles, implacable enmities. [2.] A lasting enmity, such as should continue as long as the curse should last. [3.] That this should be his work and exorcise, to prosecute and be prosecuted with this enmity; so that it shews the devil’s whole mind and desire is in this work, and that he is whetted on by the opposing enmity which he meets withal. It is the work of his curse, of his place, of his revenge, and that wherein all the delight he is capable of is placed. In that part of the curse, ‘Dust shall be thy meat,’ it is implied, if some interpret right,[78] that if Satan can be said to have any delight or ease in his condition, it is in the eating of this dust, the exercise of this enmity. No wonder, then, if Christ speak of his desires and solicitations with God to have a liberty and commission for this work: ‘Satan hath desired to have thee, that he may winnow thee,’ [Luke xxii. 31.]

That this curse relates not only to the serpent, who was the instrument, but also to Satan, who was the agent, is agreed by all almost. That it was not the serpent alone, but the devil speaking by it, is evinced from its speaking and reasoning. And that the curse reached further than a natural enmity betwixt a serpent and a man, is as evident, in that Christ is expressly held forth as giving the full accomplishment of this curse against Satan: 1 John iii. 8, ‘The devil sinneth from the beginning; for this purpose was the Son of God manifested, that he might destroy the works of the devil,’ which is a clear exposition and paraphrasis of the ‘woman’s seed bruising the serpent’s head.’

(4.) Fourthly, I shall add to this some few instances of Satan’s malice, by which it will appear to be great.

[1.] First, That malice must needs be great which shews itself where there is such a load of anguish and horror that lies upon him. He is now ‘reserved in chains of darkness in hell,’ 2 Peter ii. 4. He is in hell, a place of torment; or, which is all one, hell is in him. He carries it about him in his conscience, which, by God’s decree, binds him to his horror like a chain. It is scarce imaginable that he should have a thought free from the contemplation of his own misery, to spend in a malicious pursuit of man. What can we think less of it than a desperate madness and revenge against God, wherein he shews his rage against heaven, and hunts after our blood as for a little water to cool his tongue; and when he finds his hand too short to pull the Almighty out of his throne, he endeavours, panther-like, to tear his image in man, and to put man, created after his image, upon blaspheming and dishonouring his Maker.

[2.] Secondly, That malice must needs be great that seeks its own fuel, and provides or begs its own occasions, and those such as give no proper provocation to his anger. Of this temper is his malice. He did thus with Job: he begs the commission, calumniates Job upon unjust surmises, presseth still for a further power to hurt him, insomuch that God expressly stints and bounds him—which shews how boundless he would have been if left to his own will—and gives him at last an open check, Job ii. 3, wherein he lays open the malice of his heart in three things: [1.] His own pressing urgency: ‘Thou movedst me;’ [2.] His destructive fury: no less would serve than Job’s utter destruction; [3.] Job’s innocency: all this without cause: ‘Thou movedst me to destroy him without cause.’

[3.] Thirdly, That malice must needs be great that will pursue a small matter. What small game will the devil play rather than altogether sit out! If he can but trouble, or puzzle, or affright, yet that he will do, rather than nothing; if he can, like an adder in the path, but bite the heel, [Gen. xlix. 17,] though his head be bruised for it, he will notwithstanding busy himself in it.

[4.] Fourthly, That malice must be great which will put itself forth where it knows it can prevail nothing, but is certain of a disappointment. Thus did Satan tempt Christ. Those speeches, ‘if thou be the Son of God,’ do not imply any doubt in Satan; he knew what was prophesied of Christ, and what had been declared from heaven in testification of him, so that he could not but be certain he was God and man; and yet what base unworthy temptations doth he lay before him, as ‘to fall down and worship him’! Was it that Satan thought to prevail against him? No surely; but such was his malice, that he would put an affront upon him, though he knew he could not prevail against him.

[5.] Fifthly, The malice of wicked men is an argument of Satan’s great malice. They have an antipathy against the righteous, as the wolf against the sheep, and upon that very ground, that they are ‘called out of the world.’ How great this fury is, all ages have testified. This hath brought forth discord, revilings, slanders, imprisonments, spoiling of goods, banishments, persecutions, tortures, cruel deaths, as burning, racking, tearing, sawing asunder, and whatever the wit of man could devise for a satisfaction to those implacable, furious, murderous minds; and yet all this is done to men of the same image and lineage with themselves, of the same religion with themselves, as to the main; nay, sometime to men of their own kindred, their own flesh and blood, and all to those that would live peaceably in the land. What shall we say to these things? How come men to put on a savage nature, to act the part of lions, leopards, tigers, if not much worse? The reason of all we have, John viii. 54, ‘Ye are of your father the devil; he was a murderer from the beginning:’ as also Gen. iii. 15, ‘I will put enmity between her seed and thy seed so that all this shews what malice is in Satan’s heart, who urgeth and provokes his instruments to such bloody hatreds. Hence whoever were the agents [Rev. ii. 10] in imprisoning the saints, the malice of Satan in stirring them up to it, makes him become the author of it; ‘Satan shall cast some of you into prison.’

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Chapter III

Of Satan’s power.—His power as an angel considered.—That he lost not that power by his fall.—His power as a devil.—Of his commission.—The extent of his authority.—The efficacy of his power.—The advantages which he hath for the management of it, from the number, order, place, and knowledge of devils.

That Satan’s power is great, is our next inquiry; where,

1. First, We will consider his power as an angel. In Ps. ciii. 20 angels are said ‘to excel in strength;’ and in ver. 21, as also Ps. cxlviii. 2, they are called ‘God’s host;’ which is more fully expressed, 1 Kings xxii. 19, ‘I saw the Lord sitting upon his throne, and all the host of heaven standing by him on his right hand and on his left;’ which phrase, though it import their order and observance, yet undoubtedly the main of its intendment is to set forth their power, as hosts are the strength of kings and nations. God himself, in putting on that title, ‘The Lord of hosts,’ makes it an evidence of his incomprehensible power, that such armies of strong and mighty creatures are at his command. But this only in the general. That which comes nearer to a particular account of their strength, is that notion of a spirit, by which they are frequently described, ‘He maketh his angels spirits; his ministers flaming fire,’ Ps. civ. 4. The being of a spirit is the highest our understanding is able to reach, and that it shews a being very excellent, is manifest in this, that God is pleased to represent himself to us under the notion of a spirit; not that he is truly and properly such, but that this is the most excellent being that falls under our apprehension. Besides that the term ‘spirit’ raiseth our understanding to conceive a being of a high and extraordinary power, it doth further tend to form our conceptions to some apprehensions of their nature. [1.] From the knowledge that we have of our own spirits. That our spirit is of a vast comprehension and activity, our thoughts, desires, reasonings, and the particular undertakings of some men of a raised spirit, do abundantly evidence. [2.] In that it represents a spiritual being, freed from the clog and hindrance of corporeity. Our own spirits are limited and restrained by our bodies, as fire, an active element, is retarded and made sluggish by matter unapt to serve its proper force, as when it is in a heap of earth; which is also sufficiently pointed at in that opposition betwixt flesh and blood, and principalities and powers, Eph. vi.; shewing that flesh and blood are a disadvantage and hindrance to the activity of a spirit. A spirit then, as incorporeal, may be conceived to move easily without molestation, quickly, imperceptibly, and irresistibly. [3.] This is yet further illustrated by the similitude of wind and fire, which are, to the common experience of all, of very great force. And it is yet further observable that the Scripture sometime speaks of the power of angels in the abstract, choosing rather to call them ‘powers’ than powerful, ἐξουσίαι, Col. i. 16; clearly shewing that angels are beings of vast strength, as indeed the actions done by them do abundantly testify. Such was the destroying Sennacherib’s hosts in a night, the opening the prison doors for Peter, the carrying Philip in the air, and such other acts, which tend to the protection of the faithful, or punishing of the wicked.

Though this may fully satisfy us that angels excel in strength, yet the Scripture suggests another consideration relating to the office and employment of angels, where their commission shews not only a liberty for the exercise of this power, but also doth imply such a power as is fit to be commissionated to such acts. These invisible beings are called thrones, dominions, principalities, powers, Col. i. 16. It is indeed a task beyond a sober undertaking to distinguish these words, and to set their true bounds and marks of difference. This Augustine acknowledged;[79] yet may we hence conclude, [1.] That these words imply a very great authority in angels; [2.] A power and strength suitable to their employment, and that God furnished them with power answerable to the work which he intended for them, in his moving the heavens, and governing the world, &c. However, in some cases, God works by instruments every way disproportionable to the service, ‘that the excellency of the power might be of God,’ [2 Cor. iv. 7;] yet, in the ordinary way of his working, he puts an innate, suitable force in creatures, for the acts to be done by them; as there is an innate power in the wind to blow, in the fire to burn, in herbs and plants for medicinal uses. Thus may we conceive of angels, that God using them as his host, his ‘ministers to do his pleasure,’ he hath endowed them with an innate natural power for those great things which he doth by them, which must not be supposed in the least derogatory to the power of God, in his ways of mercies or judgments, seeing all the strength of angels is originally from God. Hence is it that all the names of angels which we read of in Scripture carry this acknowledgment in their signification; Michael thus unfolds itself, ‘Who is like God;’ Gabriel thus, ‘The glory of God and therefore may we suppose them not so much the proper names of angels, but, as Calvin noteth, Nomina ad captum nostrum indita, Names implying God’s great power in them.[80]

Such a powerful spirit is Satan by creation. But because it will be doubted lest his fall hath bereaved him of his excellency, and cast him down from his strength, I shall evidence that he still retains the same natural power. To which purpose it is not unfit to be observed, [1.] That the same terms and names which were given to good angels, to signify their strength and commission, Col. i. 16, and ii. 10, are also given to Satan, Eph. vi. 12. Devils are called ‘principalities,’ ‘powers,’ ‘rulers;’ and Col. ii. 15, they have the same names which in ver. 10 were given to good angels, ‘he spoiled principalities and powers.’ [2.] The Scripture gives particular instances of Satan’s power and working: as his raising tempests in the air, commanding fire from heaven—both which he did in prosecution of his malice against Job; his carrying the bodies of men in the air—as he did with Christ, hurrying him from the wilderness to the mountain, from thence to the pinnacle of the temple; his breaking chains and fetters of iron, Mark v. 4; his bringing diseases—instances whereof were that crooked woman whom Satan had bowed together, Luke xiii. 16, and the lunatic person, Luke ix. 31, with a great many more. [3.] It is also observable that, notwithstanding, Satan’s fall hath made an alteration as to the ends, uses, and office of his power; yet, nevertheless, God makes use of this strength in him, not only as an executioner of wrath against his enemies—as when he vexed Saul by this evil spirit; and through this lying spirit, gave up Ahab to be deluded into his ruin, and inflicted plagues upon Egypt, by sending evil angels among them, 1 Sam. xvi. 14; 1 Kings xxii. 21; Ps. lxxviii. 49—but also for the trial of his own servants. Thus was Job afflicted by Satan, and Paul buffeted by his messenger.

2. Secondly, This power of his, as a devil, falls next under our consideration, wherein are divers particulars to be noted: as,

(1.) First, His commission and authority. If any put that question to him which the Jews did to Christ, ‘By what authority dost thou these things?’ or, ‘Who gave thee this authority?’ we have the answer in John xii. 24, and xvi. 11, where he is called, ‘the prince of this world;’ and accordingly the Scripture speaks of a twofold kingdom, of light and of darkness; and in this we hear of Satan’s seat or throne, of his servants and subjects. Yea, that which is more, the Scripture speaks of a kind of deity in Satan; he is called ‘the god of this world,’ 2 Cor. iv. 4; which doth not only set forth the intolerable pride and usurpation of Satan in propounding himself as such, so drawing on poor blind creatures to worship him, but also discovers his power, which by commission he hath obtained over the children of disobedience, [Zanchius.] Hence doth he challenge it as a kind of right and due from the poor Americans, and others, that they should fall down and worship him; and upon this supposition was he so intolerably presumptuous in offering the kingdoms of the world to Christ for such a service and worship.

If it be questioned what Satan’s authority is, I shall answer it thus:—

[1.] First, His authority is not absolute or unlimited. He cannot do what he pleaseth, and therefore we do find him begging leave of God for the exerting of his power in particular cases, as when he was ‘a lying spirit’ in the mouth of Ahab’s prophets, and in every assault he made upon Job; nay, he could not enter into the swine of the Gadarenes till he had Christ’s commission for it.

[2.] Secondly, Yet hath he a commission in general—a standing commission, as petty kings and governors had under the Roman emperor, where they were authorised to exercise an authority and power, according to the rules and directions given them. This is clearly signified by those expressions, ‘they are captives at his will,’ [2 Tim. ii. 16,] and ‘given up to Satan,’ [1 Tim. i. 20,] as persons excommunicated; and when men are converted, they are said to be ‘translated from his power,’ and put under another jurisdiction, in the ‘kingdom of Christ,’ [Col. i. 13.] All which would have been highly improper, if a commission for Satan, and an authority for those works of darkness, had not been signified by them.

Next, let us view the extent of this authority, both as to persons and things. In relation to persons, the boundary of his kingdom reacheth as far as darkness. He rules in ‘the dark places of the earth,’ or the darkness of this world; and therefore his kingdom is hence denominated ‘a kingdom of darkness.’ This extends, we may well imagine, as far as heathenism reacheth, where he is worshipped as God, as far as any darkness of Mohammedanism stretcheth itself, as far as the darkness of infidelity and blindness upon the hearts of unconverted men; which, if summed up together, must needs take up the greatest part of the world by far; which is acknowledged, not only by that large expression world, ‘prince of the world,’ &c., but also by that prophetic speech of Rev. xi. 15, ‘The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord and his Christ,’ which acknowledgeth they had not been so before, in the sense wherein we now speak.

Neither is his kingdom so bounded but that he also can, when allowed, make excursions and inroads into the kingdom of Christ, so far as to molest, disturb, and annoy his subjects; as the kings of any nation, besides the power which they exercise in their proper jurisdiction, may molest their neighbours. And Christ so far permits this as is useful to his own designs, yet still with straiter reserves and limitations to Satan, and a resolved rescue and conquest for his own people.

If we inquire the extent of his power in relation to things, we find the air in a peculiar manner permitted to him; so that he is named by it, as by one of his chief royalties, ‘the prince of the power of the air.’ We find also death, with the powers of it, given up to him; so that this is a periphrasis of him, ‘He that hath the power of death,’ Heb. ii. 14. And if we take notice of his large proffer to Christ of the kingdoms of the world, ‘All this will I give thee,’ we may imagine that his commission reacheth far this way, as rewards and encouragements to his service; which we will the readilier entertain when we find that, by God’s allowance, wicked men have their ‘portion in this life,’ and that these are called ‘their good things.’[81]

3. Thirdly, Let us proceed a step further, to the efficacy of this authority; which also,

(1.) First, Upon wicked men is no less remarkable than is his commission. He is called ‘the strong man,’ [Luke xi. 21,] in reference to their hearts, which he fortifies, as so many castles and garrisons, against God. He also ‘rules in them’ without control; his suggestions and temptations are as laws to them; he ‘fills their hearts,’ Acts v. 3, with his designs, and raiseth their affections to a high and greedy pursuit of them; he works in them, and by an inward force doth hurry them on to achieve his enterprises, in all this ensnaring and captivating them ‘at his pleasure,’ Eph. ii. 2; 2 Tim. ii. 26.

(2.) Secondly, The saints, which are subjects of another kingdom, are still fearing, complaining, watching, praying, and spreading out their hands, with lifting up their eyes to heaven for help against him. They complain of violence and restless assaults from him; they are sensible that he can suggest evil thoughts, and follow them with incessant importunities; that he can draw a darkness upon their understanding by bribing their wills and affections against them; that he can disturb their duties, and that because of him they cannot do the good they would. Many a fear doth he beget in their hearts; many a disquiet hour have they from him; their flesh hath no rest, and happy are they if they escape from him without broken bones; many excellent ones have been cast down by him, and for a time have been like dead men. It is sad to see so just a person as Lot under his feet; so choice a saint as David wounded almost to the death; so high an apostle as Peter, by force and fear from him, to open his mouth with curses and imprecations in the denial of his Saviour; to say nothing of the buffetings of others, which was sufficiently wearisome to Paul, and described by ‘a thorn in the flesh,’ 2 Cor. xii. 7; which, if a learned man think right, is compared, by a metaphor, to those sharp stakes upon which Christians were cruelly spitted and burnt.[82]

(3.) Thirdly, His quick and ready accomplishment is a further proof of the efficacy of his power. No sooner had God given him a commission in reference to Job, but he quickly raiseth the tempest, brings down the house, slays his children, brings fire from heaven; and, which would seem strange, hath the troops of the Sabeans and Chaldeans at his beck, as if they had been listed under his known command; so that in a little time he puts his malice into act.

(4.) Fourthly, If any would slight all this, as being the force of principalities and powers against flesh and blood, we may see he hath so much strength and confidence as to grapple with an angel of light, as he did in the contesting for Moses his body, Jude 9. This was a created angel, else he durst not sure have brought a ‘railing accusation;’ but in that he strove, and railingly accused, it shews he wanted not a daring boldness to second his commission and power.

4. Fourthly, It will be also requisite to lay open the advantages he hath in the management of all this power, which are great; as,

(1.) First, The multitude of devils. That there are many is not denied, upon the evidence of seven cast out of Mary Magdalene, and the legion which were settled in one poor man at once. It may be we may not credit the devil’s own account of his strength so much as to believe that their number was exactly answerable to a Roman legion, which, if some speak right, was 6666; yet there being so plain an allusion to a Roman legion, and the Scripture in the recital favouring it so far as to consent to a truth in that part of the story, we can do no less than conclude that the number of devils in that person was a very great number, and so great, that the similitude of legion was proper to express it by. Besides, if the Scripture had been silent in this particular, our reason would have clearly drawn that conclusion from such premises as these, that he is the ‘god’ of the world, and rules in the ‘children of disobedience;’ for whatsoever we conceive of his power, we cannot think him omnipotent or omnipresent, these being the incommunicable attributes of the great Creator of all things, in which no creature can share with God. Being then assured that he is the tempter of all men, and that he cannot be in all places at once, we must needs apprehend the devils to be many, as is signified by that expression, ‘the devil and his angels.’

(2.) Secondly, He hath also an advantage for the executing of his designs, from that order, which from the fore-mentioned grounds we must be forced to conceive to be among devils. I know the bold determination of the order of angels by Dionysius is justly rejected, not only by Irenæus and Augustine,[83] but also by the generality of protestants, who upon that and other grounds of like presumption do reject that author as not being the true Dionysius the Areopagite. Neither do some of our protestant authors, as Chamier and others, admit the government of angels to be monarchical, which supposition the papists would gladly make use of, as a foundation whereon to establish the universal headship of the pope, being a thing which Dionysius himself, as Chamier affirms, never dreamt of.[84] Yet do none of these authors deny an order among the angels, but willingly grant it, as clearly implied from the term archangel used by Paul, 1 Thes. iv. 16,[85] and from their being called God’s host or army, where order is necessary for the right management of their strength, and confusion the way to the ruin of their designs. The thing they dislike is, the bold and peremptory determination of the particular orders among them, and the assignment of the several charges, employments, and stations to each; which whosoever shall do, must needs be guilty of ‘intruding into things which he hath not seen.’[86] It would upon the same score be a presumptuous folly to make such a determination of the several ranks and particular employments of devils. Yet this hindereth not, but with a warrantable sobriety we may believe in the general that there is an order among the devils. Not only do these expressions, ‘Beelzebub the prince of devils,’ ‘the devil and his angels,’ and in that they are called ‘principalities and powers,’ warrant us so to think, but the fore-mentioned considerations about the multitude of devils will force our reason to an assent: for if they must be many, because all mankind is sensible of their assaults, they must have also an order in the management of their temptations—without which their designs of cruelty and malice must, at least in great part, fall to the ground.[87] Neither do I know well how those authors may be justly blamed, who proceed a little further in their suppositions, to tell us, as most probable,[88] that these infernal spirits do share the world among them, and are allotted to several countries and places, as their own proper charge and jurisdiction; for what other interpretation those passages in Dan. x. 13 can receive I cannot see: the prince of the kingdom of Persia withstanding the angel one and twenty days; and his help in that opposition from Michael, cannot, if things be well weighed, be properly understood of Cambyses the son of Cyrus, or a contest with any man. However, if we let this go as a thing uncertain, because this interpretation is denied by some,[89] yet that which is spoken of their order in the general, and the advantage these spirits have against us upon that consideration, seems to be past denial.

(3.) Thirdly, The advantage of place among armies is reckoned much. Satan seems to have something this way as an advantage of ground, in that he is styled spiritual wickedness in high places.[90] What advantage high places may be to devils and spirits we cannot further imagine, than that they, being thus above us and about us in the air, see and know our ways and actions, and so receive information from thence for their malicious proceedings against us.

(4.) Fourthly, But his greatest advantage is from his knowledge, which I shall a little explain in the following chapter.

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Chapter IV

That Satan hath a great measure of knowledge, proved by comparing him with the knowledge of Adam in innocency, and by his titles.—Of his knowledge, natural, experimental, and accessory.—Of his knowledge of our thoughts.—How far he doth not know them, and how far he doth, and by what means.—Of his knowledge of things future, and by what ways he doth conjecture them.—The advantages in point of temptation that he hath by his knowledge.

In the discovery of Satan’s knowledge, I shall first give evidence and demonstration thereof. To which purpose—

1. Let us consider the knowledge of Adam in innocency; which being found to be great, it will thence be easily concluded that Satan’s knowledge is far greater. Two notable discoveries we have of Adam’s knowledge, the one was his giving of names to all creatures, Gen. ii. 29, which was not only a sign of his dominion, but also a notable instance of his understanding, seeing the names were given according to the natures of creatures; whereof Bochartus gives a large account, as the camel is called גמל, because it is apt to repay injuries; the kite, דאה, from its sharpness of sight; the pelican is named קאת, from its usual vomiting, &c.[91] The consideration of the aptness of names imposed on creatures made Plato acknowledge that it was a work above ordinary capacity. The other discovery of Adam’s knowledge was his knowledge of the original of Eve at first sight, Gen ii. 23; he said, ‘This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh,’ &c. This instance Luther made use of to prove the knowledge that we shall have of one another in heaven; which shews that Adam’s understanding was then incomparably more sublime than ours, and of a nearer approach to the knowledge which a state of glory shall furnish us withal. To this might be added a further proof from the rare inventions and excellent discoveries that some raised wits have made, of things that have laid deep and far out of the view of common capacities. As also those views, sights, and more than ordinary comprehensions which the souls of men have had, when they were a little freed from the clog and hindrance of the body, either in ecstasies or by approaching death; all which put together will go far to prove a very great measure of knowledge in Satan, if we take along with us this foundation, that in all the works of God we find the highest knowledge in the noblest being. Living creatures are more excellent than stones or trees, and therefore hath God furnished them with senses, and hath also distinguished them by higher degrees of sagacity, according to their excellency above others. Thus the ape, fox, elephant, &c., have such abilities above the worm and fly, &c., that some have questioned whether they had not some lower degrees of reason: yet as these are below man, so doth his reason far excel their greatest quickness of sense. Angels are a higher being than man—for he made him ‘lower than the angels’—and consequently their knowledge is proportionably greater. So that if Adam in innocency understood the nature of things, how much more exactly and fully must we imagine Satan to know them!

2. Secondly, But the proof is more full and direct, from those appellations and titles which the Scripture and the experience of men have put upon him; his usual name, Δαίμων, quasi Δαήμων, which—in Mat. viii. 31; Mark v. 12; Rev. xvi. 14—we translate devil, properly signifieth one that is wise, knowing, or skilful. And however the wickedness of that spirit hath so far dishonoured this word, that it is always, as some think, used to signify ‘unclean spirits;’ yet still it carries an evidence of their nature in reference to knowledge, that though they are wicked creatures, yet are they wise and knowing. It is said, Gen. iii. 1, ‘The serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field;’ which, though it be true literally of the serpent, whose wisdom and subtlety naturalists have abundantly noted, yet that expression hath an eye upon Satan, who was the principal agent; and the serpent there is called subtle, as influenced by Satan, whose instrument he was:[92] which we may believe, not only upon the credit of Austin and Lyra, but more securely upon the testimony of other scriptures, which name him ‘the old serpent,’ Rev. xvii. 9, and impute all that craft in the management of that temptation to a particular remarkable skill and subtlety of Satan. ‘The serpent beguiled Eve through subtlety,’ 2 Cor. xi. 3; and, if Beza conjecture right, the appellation Δαίμων do so fitly suit this history of the tree of knowledge, that the title of knowledge seems to be given him for this singular masterpiece of craft.

3. Thirdly, That Satan hath great knowledge is by these arguments discovered; but if further inquiry be made into the nature of his knowledge, we shall be nearer to a satisfaction in this particular; and here we may observe a threefold knowledge in Satan.

(1.) First, A natural knowledge; which the schoolmen have distinguished into these two: [1.] An evening knowledge, which he received from things created, whereby the species of things were impressed upon his mind, and so received, being a knowledge à posteriori, from the effects of things; which, because it is more dark and obscure than that which ariseth from the causes of things, they termed evening knowledge. [2.] The other is morning knowledge, which is a knowledge of things in the power and wisdom of God, in which he saw the ideas and images of all things. This knowledge they prefer before the other, as lines and figures are better known from mathematical instruction than by their bare tract as written in dust.[93]

(2.) Secondly, Besides this he hath an experimental knowledge; which is the improvement of that natural stock, by further acquisitions and attainments. And indeed Satan had very high advantages for an increase of knowledge. He had a great stock to begin withal; he hath had fit and suitable objects to work upon in his contemplations, so that by comparing things with things in so large a field of variety, and that for so many years together, it cannot be but that he should be grown more experienced and subtle than he was at first; and the Scripture doth fairly countenance this supposition, by telling us of his devices, 2 Cor. ii. 11; of his wiles, Eph. vi. 11; and of his depths, Rev. ii. 24.[94] All which phrases imply that Satan hath so studied the point of temptation, that he hath now, from long experience and observation, digested it into an art and method, and that with such exactness that it is become a mystery and a depth, much covered and concealed from the notice and observation of men.

(3.) Thirdly, To both the former may be added another knowledge, which because it is from another spring, I may call it an accessory knowledge, consisting in occasional discoveries made to him, either when God is pleased to make known so much of his mind and purpose, as he employs him, as an instrument or servant, to execute, as he did in the case of Job and Ahab; or when he informs himself from the Scriptures, or catcheth hints of knowledge from the church and the ordinances thereof. If good angels have an increase of knowledge this way, as is evident they have, ‘for to principalities and powers in heavenly places is made known by the church the manifold wisdom of God,’ Eph. iii. 10, we cannot but imagine that Satan hath some addition of knowledge from such discoveries. While we are upon this point, it will be necessary to offer some satisfaction to two questions.

Quest. 1. First, Whether Satan knows our thoughts?

Ans. 1. It is undoubtedly God’s prerogative to know the thoughts. He knows them intuitively, which is beyond the power of any creature: Jer. xvii. 9, ‘Who can know it?’ This is a challenge to all, implying the utter impossibility of it to any but to God alone; ‘I the Lord search the heart;’ he knows the most inward thoughts: Rev. ii. 23, ‘I am he which searcheth the reins, and the heart;’ he knows them evidently and certainly: Heb. iv. 13, ‘All things are naked and open[95] before him with whom we have to do.’ Those secret thinkings and intendments which are hid from others, and which we ourselves cannot distinctly read, because of their secret intricacy or confusedness, yet the very inside and outside of them are uncased, cut up and anatomised by his eye; in all which expressions God is careful to reserve this to himself, ‘I the Lord do it,’ or ‘I am he, &c., that searcheth;’ and signifies that none else is able to do the like.

Ans. 2. Yet Satan can do much this way; for if we consider how he can come so near to our spirits, as to communicate his injections to us, and that he often entertains a dispute with us in this secret way of access that he hath to our thoughts; if we observe his arguings, his answers and replies to our refusals, so direct, so pertinent, so continued, we shall be constrained to grant that he can do more this way than is commonly imagined. That I may explain this with a due respect to God’s prerogative of knowing the heart, I shall,

1. First, Shew that there are two things which are clearly out of Satan’s reach. [1.] Our future thoughts; he cannot tell what shall be our thoughts for time to come. He may possibly adventure to tell what suggestions he resolves to put into our hearts, but what shall be our resolves and determinations thereupon he knows not. This is singled out as one part of God’s prerogative, that he knoweth the determinate purposes and resolves of the heart aforehand, because he turneth the heart as he pleaseth, Prov. xxi. 1. [2.] Our present formed thoughts, the immediate and imminent[96] acts of the mind he cannot directly see into. He may tell what floating thinkings he hath put into our heart, but our own proper thoughts, or formed resolves, he cannot directly view. This is also particularly insisted on as proper to God alone: John ii. 24, 25, ‘Christ knew all men,’ so directly, that ‘he needed not that any should testify of man.’ This Satan stands in need of; he sometimes knows men and their thoughts, but he needs a sign or notification of these thoughts, and cannot immediately look into them. The reason why Christ needed not this, is rendered thus: ‘For he knew what was in man,’ Mat. xii. 25, that is, intuitively he knew his thoughts, and could immediately read them.

2. Secondly, I shall endeavour to explain how much, or how far he can pry into our thoughts. Several things are granted which argue Satan can go a great way toward a discovery. As,

(1.) First, That he knows the objects in our fancy or phantasms, and this as clearly as we do behold things with our eyes. And the proof given hereof is this: that there are diabolical dreams, in which the devil cannot create new species, and such as our senses were never acquainted withal, as to make a blind man dream of colours, but that he can only call forth and set in order those objects, of which our imagination doth retain the shadows or impressions; and this he could not do if he did not visibly behold them in our fancy.[97]

(2.) Secondly, It is certain he knows his own suggestions and temptations darted into our minds, upon which he can at present know what our thoughts are busied upon.

(3.) Thirdly, He knows the secret workings of our passions, as love, desire, fear, &c., because these depend upon, or are in a concomitancy of the motions of the blood and spirits, which he can easily discern, though their motions and workings may be kept secret from the observation of all bystanders.

(4.) Fourthly, Some go further, as Scotus, (referente Barthol. Sybilla,)[98] supposing that he knows what is in our thoughts at any time, only he knows not to what these thoughts incline; but I leave this to those that can determine it certainly. In the meantime I proceed,

3. Thirdly, To shew what a guessing faculty he hath of what he doth not directly know. He hath such grounds and advantages for conjecture, that he seldom fails of finding our mind. As,

(1.) First, His long experience hath taught him what usually men do think, in such cases as are commonly before them. By a cunning observation of their actions and ways he knows this.

(2.) Secondly, He by study and observation knows our temper and inclination, and consequently what temptations do most suit them, and how we do ordinarily entertain them.

(3.) Thirdly, He knows this the more, by taking notice of our prayers, our complainings and mournings over our defects and miscarriages.

(4.) Fourthly, He is quick and ready to take notice of any exterior sign, by which the mind is signified, as the pulse, the motion of the body, the change of the countenance, all which do usually shew the assent or dissent of the mind, and at least tell him what entertainment his offers have in our thoughts.

(5.) Fifthly, Being so quick-sighted, he can understand those particular signs which would escape the observation of the wisest men.[99] There are some things small in themselves, and therefore unobserved, which yet to wise men are very great indicia of things. The like may be said of us, in reference to our inclinations, our acceptance or resistance of temptations, which yet he hath curiously marked out.

(6.) Sixthly, No doubt but he hath ways to put us upon a discovery of our thoughts, while we conceal them, as by continuing and prosecuting temptations or suggestions, till our trouble or passions do some way discover how it is with us. By all which it appears that his guessings and conjectures do seldom fail him. It is now time to speak to the other question, which is,

Quest. 2. Whether and how far Satan knows things to come?

Ans. To this I shall return answer in these two conclusions:

Conclusion 1. First, There is a way of knowing future things, which is beyond the knowledge of devils, and proper only to God, Isa. xli. 23; there God puts the competition betwixt himself and idols, about the truth of a deity, upon this issue, that ‘he that can shew the things that are to come hereafter, he is God;’ which because they cannot do, he doth hereby evince them to be no gods. If Satan could truly and properly have done this, he had had a plea for a godhead. In divine predictions two things are to be considered. [1.] The matter foretold; when the events of things contingent, and as to second causes casual, depending upon indeterminate causes, are foretold. [2.] The manner; when these things are not uncertainly, or conjecturally, or darkly, but clearly, certainly, infallibly, and fully predicted. Of this nature are divine predictions, which Satan cannot perform, nor yet the angels in heaven.

Conclusion 2. Secondly, Yet Satan hath such advantages for the knowledge of future things, and such means and helps for a discovery of them, that his conjectures have often come to pass.

[1.] First, He knows the causes of things, which are secret to us. Upon which he seems to foretell many things strange to us; as a physician may foretell the effects, workings, and issues of a disease, as seeing them in the causes, which would pass for little less than prophecy among the vulgar. Thus an astrologer foretells eclipses, which would be taken for a divine excellency, where the knowledge of the ground of these foretellings had not taken away the wonder.

[2.] Secondly, Many things are made known to him by immediate divine revelation. We know not the intercourse betwixt God and Satan in the matter of Job. Satan having obtained his commission to afflict him, might have made a long prophecy of what should come to pass in reference to Job, his children and substance. How many such predictions he might make, we little know.

[3.] Thirdly, He hath a deep insight in affairs of kingdoms and states, and so might, from his experience and observation, easily conjecture mutations and alterations. A politician may do much this way. For aught we know, Satan’s prophecy, in the likeness of Samuel, to Saul, of his ruin, and the translation of his kingdom to David, might be no more than a conjectural conclusion, from his comparing the order of the present providence with former threatenings and promises.

[4.] Fourthly, He hath a greater understanding of Scripture prophecies, than ordinarily the wisest men have, so that at second hand he might be able to foretell what shall come to pass; whilst we that do not so clearly see into Scripture predictions, may not be able to find out the matter. Hence by oracle he foretold Alexander of his success, which he knew from the prophecy of Daniel, chap. xi., long before.[100]

[5.] Fifthly, He hath advantage from his nature as a spirit, by which he overhears and sees the private actings, complottings, and preparations of men in reference to certain undertakings, and can easily, by his agents, communicate such counsels or resolves in remote countries and kingdoms, which must pass for real predictions, if the event answer accordingly.

[6.] Sixthly, He can foretell, and with probability of success, such things as he by temptation is about to put men upon, especially seeing he can choose such instruments as he, from experience, knows are not likely to fail his enterprise.

[7.] Seventhly, To this may be added, the way and manner by which he expresseth himself, either in doubtful or enigmatical terms, or in general expressions, which may be applied to the event, what way soever it should happen. Of these, authors have observed many instances, which were superfluous to enumerate.[101]

Satan’s knowledge being thus explained, it is easy to imagine what an advantage it is to him in the management of his temptations. For,

First, He by this means knows our tempers and dispositions.

Secondly, And what is most likely to prevail with us.

Thirdly, How inclinable we are upon any motion made to us, and what hope to gain upon us.

Fourthly, He knows fit times, seasons, and advantages against us.

Fifthly, He knows how to pursue suggestions, and can choose strong reasons to urge us withal.

Sixthly, He knows how to delude our senses, to disturb our passions.

Seventhly, He knows all the ways and arts of affrightments, vexations, disquietments, hindrances, and disturbances of duty.

[8.] Eighthly, He by this means is furnished with skill for his public cheats and delusions in the world; how to amuse, astonish, and amaze men into errors and mistakes, which he hath always endeavoured with very great success in the world, as we shall see hereafter.

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Chapter V

Instances of Satan’s power.—Of witchcraft, what it is.—Satan’s power argued from thence.—Of wonders.—Whether Satan can do miracles?—An account of what he can do that way.—His power argued from apparitions and possessions.

I shall add, in the fifth place, some particular instances of his power, in which I shall insist upon these four—witchcraft, wonders, apparitions, and possessions.

1. First, Witchcraft affords a very great discovery of Satan’s power. But because some give such interpretations of witchcraft, as, if true, would wholly take away the force of this instance, I shall first endeavour to establish a true notion of witchcraft; and secondly, from thence argue Satan’s power.

(1.) First, Though the being of witches is not directly denied, because the authority of Scripture—Exod. xxii. 18; Deut. xviii. 10, &c.—hath determined beyond controversy that such there are; yet some will allow no other interpretation of the word,[102] than a skill and practice in the art of poisoning, because the Septuagint doth interpret the Hebrew word, מכשפה, by φάρμακον, veneficam; which apprehension they strengthen by the authority of Josephus,[103] who giveth this account of the law, ‘Let none of the children of Israel use any deadly poison, or any drug wherewith he may do hurt,’ &c. It is easy to observe that this conceit ariseth from a great inobservancy of the reason of the application of these words, φάρμακος and veneficus, to witchcraft, in Greek and Latin authors.

Witchcrafts were supposed to be helped forward by the strength of several herbs, and these, by incantations and other ceremonies at their gathering, imagined to attain a poisonous and evil quality or efficacy for such effects as were intended to be produced by them, as appears by Ovid, Virgil, and other authors.[104] Hence was it that the word φάρμακος became applicable to any sort of witchcraft. To this may be added, that such persons were resorted to for help against diseases, [vide Leigh. Crit. Sac. in Voc.] As also that they used unguents for transportations. Hence Godwin [Jew. Antiq., lib. iv. cap. 10] renders φαρμάκους by unguentarios. Diascorides [Cap. de Rhamno] hath an expression to this purpose, ‘that the branch of that tree, being placed before the doors, doth drive away τῶν φαρμάκων κακουργίας, witchcrafts.’ It were ridiculous to say it drives away poisonings; which is a sufficient evidence that the Grecians used that word to signify another kind of witchcraft than that which this mistake would establish. Besides this, the Scripture doth afford two strong arguments against this interpretation of witchcraft.

[1.] That this word is ranked with others, as being of the same alliance, which will carry the apprehensions of any considerate man to effects done by the help of Satan, in an unusual way, as Deut. xviii. 10, ‘There shall not be found among you any that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire’—this is not the consuming of their children to Moloch, but by way of lustration, a mock baptism, a piece of witchcraft, to preserve from violent death—‘or that useth divination, an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch,’ &c.[105] The very neighbourhood of the witch will tell us that this witch must be a diviner, divination being the general term, comprehending the seven particulars following.[106] It would be a harsh straining to put in the poisoner, in the sense of our opposites, among the diviners. Yet the second argument is more cogent, which is this: That among those whom Pharaoh called together to encounter with Moses, Exod. vii. 11, we find witches or sorcerers expressed by the same word, מכשפים, which is used in Exod. xxii. and Deut. xviii. What can more certainly fix the interpretation of the word than this place, where the end of Pharaoh’s calling them together was, not to poison Moses and Aaron, but by enchantment to outvie them in point of miracles? which will shew that witchcraft is not poisoning, but the doing of strange acts by the aid of Satan. Neither was this the act of one man—who might possibly, together with that present age, be under a mistake concerning witches, though it be a thing not to be supposed—but long after him, Nebuchadnezzar, in Dan. ii. 4, being astonished with his dreams, calls for the sorcerers or witches, and magicians, to give him the interpretation; which had been a matter very improper for them, if their skill had lain only in mixing poisons.[107]

When we have thus silenced this imagination, we have yet another to encounter with, and that is, Of those that think these witches, of which the fore-cited texts do speak, are but mere cheats, and by some tricks of delusion and legerdemain pretend they can do things which indeed they cannot do at all; and yet finding death threatened to such, which, in a business of mere juggling, would seem too great a severity, they have framed this answer to it,[108] that the death is threatened, not for juggling, but for their presumptuous and blasphemous undertaking to do things that belong to a divine power, and for taking his name in vain. Or, as others are pleased to say,[109] though they have no real power, they are justly punished for the belief they have, that they can do such mischief, joined with their purpose to do it, if they can.

In answer to this apprehension, I shall not much insist upon these reasons, which yet are sufficiently weak—the latter accusing God’s laws of unreasonable severity, and the former accusing them of unnecessary redundancy, seeing enough in other places is provided against blasphemers[110]—but shall offer a consideration or two, which I judge will be of force to rectify the mistake.

[1.] First, Though it cannot be denied but that a great many cheats there have been in all ages, by which men have endeavoured to raise the repute and esteem of their own skill and excellencies, or for other base ends; yet, from hence to conclude that all these things that have been done under the name of witchcraft were such, must be an unsufferable piece of insolence; not only denying that credit which all sober men owe to history, to the constant belief of all ages, to the faithfulness and wisdom of judges, jurors, witnesses, laws, and sanctions, but also dangerously overthrowing all our senses; so that at this rate we may well question whether we really eat, drink, move, sleep, and anything else that we do. This reason is urged by grave and serious men.[111]

[2.] Secondly, It cannot be imagined that such things are merely delusory, where the voluntary confessions of so many have accused themselves and others, not of thinking or juggling, but of really acting and doing such things—with such circumstances as have particularised time, place, thing, and manner.

[3.] Thirdly, The real effects done by the power of witchcraft shew it not to be delusion. Such are the transportation of persons many miles from their habitations, and leaving them there; their telling things done in remote places; raising of storms and tempests; vomiting of pins, needles, stones, cloth, leather, and such like; and these, some of them, attested by sober and intelligent persons who were eye-witnesses. Large accounts you have of these in Bodinus, Sprengerius, and several others that have borrowed these relations from them.[112]

The notion of poisonings, or delusory jugglings, being below what the Scripture intends to set forth as witchcraft, it is evident that witchcraft is a power of doing great things by the aid of the devil; by which our way is open to improve this instance, to demonstrate— which was the second thing promised—that Satan’s power must be great. For,

[1.] First, It is acknowledged that a great part of those things that are done in this matter, as concurrent with, or helpful toward the promoting of such acts, are Satan’s proper works—as the troubling of the air, raising storms, apparitions, various shapes and appearances, transportations from place to place, and a great many more things of wonder and amazement, all which exceed human power.[113]

[2.] Secondly, Many things of wonder done by such persons, to which some suppose the secret powers of herbs or things contribute their natural aids or concurrence, are evidences of Satan’s deep knowledge of and insight into natural causes. Of this nature is that ointment with which witches are said to besmear themselves in order to their transportation; the power and efficacy whereof is by some imagined to consist in this, that it keeps the body tenantable and in a fit condition to receive the soul by re-entry after such separations, as, by all circumstances are concluded, have been really made in pursuit of those visionary perambulations and transactions; which things, if they be so—as they are not improbable—witches have them from Satan’s discovery, and they are to be ascribed to his power.[114]

[3.] Thirdly, Those actions that are most properly the witch’s own actions, and in which the power of hurting doth, as some suppose, reside, are notwithstanding either awakened or influenced by Satan; so though we grant, what some would have, that the power of hurting is a natural power, and a venomous magnetism of the witch, and that her imagination, by her eye darts those malignant beams which produce real hurts upon men—after the manner of the imagination’s force upon a child in the womb, which hath, as by daily experience and history is confirmed, produced marks, impressions, deformities, and wounds—and that Satan doth but cheat the witch into a belief of his aid in that matter; that with a greater advantage he may make use of her power, without which he could do nothing; yet even this speaks his ability, in that at least he doth awaken and raise up that magical force which otherwise would be asleep, and so puts the sword into their hand. Yet some attribute far more to him—to wit, the infusion of a poisonous ferment—by that action of sucking the witch in some part of the body—by which not only her imagination might be heightened by poisonous streams breathed in, which might infect blood and spirits with a noxious tincture.[115]

2. The second grand instance of his power I shall produce from those actions of wonder and astonishment which he sometime performs, which indeed have been so great that they have occasioned that question—

Whether Satan can do miracles?

To this we answer—

(1.) That God alone can work miracles, a miracle being a real act, done visibly, and above the power of nature. Such works some have ranked into three heads:[116] [1.] Such as created power cannot produce; as to make the sun stand still or go backward. [2.] Such as are in themselves produceable by nature,[117] but not in such an order; as to make the dead to live, and those that were born blind to see, which is strongly argued, John ix. 32, to be above human power; and, John x. 21, to be above the power of devils. [3.] Such as are the usual works of nature, yet produced, above the principles and helps of nature, as to cure a disease by a word or touch.

Things that are thus truly and properly miraculous are peculiarly works of God; neither can it be imagined, that since he hath been pleased to justify his commands, ways, and messages, by such mighty acts—2 Cor. xii. 12; Heb. ii. 4; John x. 38—and also hath been put to it, to justify himself and his sole supreme being and godhead from false competitors—Ps. lxxxvi. 10, and lxxii. 18—by his miraculous works, it cannot be imagined, I say, that he would permit any created being, much less Satan, to do such things.

(2.) Secondly, Though Satan cannot do things miraculous, yet he can do things wonderful and amazing—mira non miracula. And in this point lies the danger of delusion, as Christ foretells: Mat. xxiv. 24, ‘False Christs shall arise, and shew great signs and wonders.’ In 2 Thes. ii. 4, the apostle tells us, ‘The coming of antichrist shall be with all power, and signs, and wonders’—that is, as some interpret,[118] with the power of signs and wonders; which, however they be lying, both in reference to the design they drive at—which is to propagate errors—and also in their own nature, being truly such, in respect of their form, false as miracles, being indeed no such matter, but juggling cheats; yet, notwithstanding, there is no small cunning and working of Satan in them, insomuch that the uncautious and injudicious are ‘deceived by those wonders that he hath power to do,’ Rev. xiii. 13. In this matter, though we are not able to give a particular account of these underground actions, yet thus much we may say—

[1.] First, That in many cases his great acts, that pass for miracles, are no more but deceptions of sense. Naturalists have shewn several feats and knacks of this kind. Jo. Bap. Porta[119] hath a great many ways of such deceptions, by lamps and the several compositions of oils, by which not only the colours of things are changed, but men appear without heads, or with the heads of horses, &c. The like deceptions are wrought by glasses of various figures and shapes. If art can do such things, much more can Satan.

[2.] Secondly, He can mightily work upon the fancy and imagination; by which means men are abused into a belief of things that are not; as in dreams, the fancy presents things which are really imagined to be done and said, whenas they are visions of the night, which vanish when the man is awake; or as in melancholy persons, the fancy of men doth so strongly impose upon them, that they believe strange absurd things of themselves—that they have horns on their head, that they are made of glass, that they are dead, and what not. If fancy, both asleep and awake, may thus abuse men into an apprehension of impossible things, and that with confidence, no wonder if Satan, whose power reacheth thus far, as was before proved, doth take this advantage for the amusing of men with strange things. Nebuchadnezzar his judgment, Dan. iv. 25, whereby he was ‘driven from men, and ate grass as oxen,’ was not a metamorphosis, or real change into an ox. This all expositors reject as too hard. Neither seems it to be only his extreme necessity and low estate, whereby he seemed to be little better than a beast, though Calvin favour this interpretation;[120] but by that expression, ver. 25, ‘then my understanding came to me,’ it seems evident, as most commentators think, that his understanding was so changed in that punishment that he imagined himself to be a beast, and behaved himself accordingly, by eating grass, and lying in the open fields. There are several stories to this purpose of strange transformations, as the bodies of men into asses, and other beasts, which Augustine thinks to be nothing else but the devil’s power upon the fancy.[121]

[3.] Thirdly, There are wonderful secrets in nature, which if cunningly used and applied to fit things and times, must needs amaze vulgar heads; and though some of these are known to philosophers and scholars, yet are there many secret things locked from the wisest men, whose powers and natures because they know not, they may also be deluded by them. Augustine[122] reckons up many instances, as the loadstone, the stone pyrites, selenites, the fountain of Epirus, that can kindle a torch, and many more; and determines that many strange things are done by the application of these natural powers, either by the wit of man or diabolical art. To this purpose he gives an account of an unextinguishable lamp, Λύχνος ἄσβεστος, in a temple of Venus, which allured men to worship there, as to an unquestionable deity, when in truth the thing was but an ingenious composition from the stone asbeston, of which Pliny makes mention, that being kindled, it will not be quenched with water.[123] Of this nature were those lamps found in several vaults accompanying the ashes of the dead, reserved there in urns, both in England and elsewhere.[124] If men by such helps find such easy ways to delude men, what exactness of workmanship and seeming wonders may be expected from Satan upon such advantages!

[4.] Fourthly, Many of his wonders may challenge a higher rise. Satan knows the secret ways of nature’s operations, and the ways of accelerating or retarding those works; so that he cannot only do what nature can do, by a due application of active to passive principles,[125] and the help of those seminal powers that are in things, but he may be supposed to perform them in a quicker and more expeditious manner. Thus worms, flies, and serpents, that are bred of putrefaction, Satan may speedily produce; and who can tell how far this help may reach in his works of wonders?

[5.] Fifthly, The secret way of Satan’s movings and actings is no small matter in these affairs. How many things do common jugglers by the swift motions of their hands, that seem incredible! Thus they make the bystanders believe they change the substances, natures, and forms of things, when they only, by a speedy conveyance, take these things away, and put others in their room. They that shall consider Satan as a spirit, subtle, imperceptible, quick of motion, &c., will easily believe him to be more accomplished for such conveyances than all the men in the world.

Having now seen the way of his wonders, let us next consider the advantage he hath by such actions. If we look upon Simon Magus, Acts viii. 10, 11, we find that he by these ways had a general influence upon the people, ‘To him they all gave heed, from the least to the greatest;’ and that his actions were reckoned no less than miraculous, as done by ‘the mighty power of God.’ If we go from hence to the magicians of Pharaoh, Exod. vii. 11, it is said, ‘They did so with their enchantments,’ which, howsoever the matter was, prevailed so with Pharaoh and the court, that they saw no difference betwixt the wonders done by Moses and them, save that, it may be, they thought Moses the more skilful magician. But besides this, if we consider what they did, it will argue much for his power, if we can imagine, as some do,[126] that they turned their rods into real serpents; the power is evident: and there is this that favours that opinion; it is said they could not make lice, which seems to imply they really did the other things, and it had been as easy to delude the senses in the matter of lice as in the rods, if it had been no more than a delusion. Neither are some awanting to give a reason of such a power—viz., serpents, lice, &c., being the offspring of putrefaction; by his dexterous application of the seminal principles of things, he might quickly produce them. If we go lower, and take up with the opinion of those that think that they were neither mere delusions, nor yet true serpents; but real bodies like serpents, though without life, this will argue a very great power.[127] Or if we suppose, as some do,[128] that Satan took away the rods, and secretly conveyed serpents in their stead, or—which is the lowest apprehension we can have—that Pharaoh’s sight was deceived, the matter is still far from being contemptible, forasmuch as we see the spectators were not able to discern the cheat.

3. Thirdly, The next instance produceable for evidencing his power is that of apparitions. It cannot be denied but that the fancy of melancholic or timorous persons is fruitful enough to create a thousand bugbears; and also that the villainy of some persons hath been designedly employed to deceive people with mock apparitions—of which abundance of instances might be given from the knavery of the papists, discovered to the world beyond contradiction; but all this will not conclude that there are no real appearances of spirit or devils. Such sad effects in all ages there have been of these things, that most men will take it for an undeniable truth.

Instead of others, let the apparition at Endor to Saul come to examination. Some indeed[129] will have us believe that all that was but a subtle cheat managed by that old woman; and that neither Samuel nor the devil did appear, but that the woman, in another room by herself, or with a confederate, gave the answer to Saul. But whosoever shall read that story, and shall consider Saul’s bowing and discourse, and the answers given, must acknowledge that Saul thought at least he saw and spake with Samuel; and indeed the whole transaction is such, that such a cheat cannot be supposed.

Satisfying ourselves, then, that there was an apparition, we must next inquire whether it was true Samuel or Satan. It cannot be denied but that many judge it was true Samuel, but their reasons are weak.[130]

[1.] That proof from Ecclesiasticus xlvi. 23, is not canonical with us.

[2.] That he was called Samuel, is of no force. Scripture often gives names of things according to their appearances.

[3.] That things future were foretold, was but from conjecture; in which Satan yet, all things considered, had good ground for his guessing.

[4.] That the name Jehovah is oft repeated, signifies nothing. The devil is not so scarce of words. ‘Jesus I know,’ saith that spirit in the Acts.

[5.] That he reproved sin in Saul, is no more than what the devil doth daily to afflicted consciences in order to despair.

I must go then with those that believe this was Satan in Samuel’s likeness.

[1.] Because God refused to answer Saul by prophets or Urim; and it is too harsh to think he would send Samuel from the dead, and so answer him in an extraordinary way.

[2.] This, if it had been Samuel, would have given too much countenance to witchcraft, contrary to that check to Ahaziah, 2 Kings i. 3, ‘Is it not because there is not a God in Israel, that ye go to inquire of Baal-zebub?’

[3.] The prediction of Saul’s death, though true for substance, yet failed as to the exactness of time, for the battle was not fought the next day.

[4.] The acknowledgment of the witch’s power, ‘Why hast thou disquieted me?’ shews it could not be true Samuel, the power of witchcraft not being able to reach souls at rest with God.

[5.] That expression of ‘gods ascending out of the earth,’ is evidently suspicious.

The reality of apparitions being thus established, Satan’s power will be easily evinced from it. To say nothing of the bodies in which spirits appear, the haunting of places and persons, and the other effects done by such appearances, speak abundantly for it.

4. Fourthly, The last instance is of possessions, the reality of which can no way be questioned, because the New Testament affords so much for it. I shall only note some things as concerning this head. As,

(1.) First, The multitudes of men possessed. Scarce was there anything in which Christ had more opportunities to shew his authority than in casting out of Satan. Such objects of compassion he met with in every place.

(2.) Secondly, The multitudes of spirits in one person is a consideration not to be passed by.

(3.) Thirdly, These persons were often strongly acted, sometime with fierceness and rage, Mat. viii. 28; some living without clothes and without house, Luke viii. 27; some by an incredible strength breaking chains and fetters, Mark v. 3.

(4.) Fourthly, Sometime the possessed were sadly vexed and afflicted, cast into the fire and water, &c.

(5.) Fifthly, Some were strangely influenced. We read of one, Acts xvi. 16, that had a spirit of divination, and told many things to come, which we may suppose frequently came to pass, else she could have brought ‘no gain to her master by soothsaying.’ Another we hear of whose possession was with a lunacy, and had fits at certain times and seasons. The possessed person with whom Mr Rothwell discoursed, within the memory of some living, could play the critic in the Hebrew language.[131]

(6.) Sixthly, In some the possession was so strong, and so firmly seated, that ordinary means and ways could not dispossess them: ‘This kind comes not out but by prayer and fasting,’ Mat. xvii. 21; which shews that all possession was not of one kind and manner, nor alike liable to ejection.

(7.) Seventhly, To all these may be added obsessions: where the devil afflicts the bodies of men, disquiets them, haunts them, or strikes in with their melancholy temper, and so annoys by hideous and black representations. Thus was Saul vexed by ‘an evil spirit from the Lord,’ which as most conceive was the devil working in his melancholy humour. That the devil should take possession of the bodies of men, and thus act, drive, trouble, and distress them, so distort, distend, and rack their members; so seat himself in their tongues and minds that a man cannot command his own faculties and powers, but seems to be rather changed into the nature of a devil than to retain anything of a man, this shews a power in him to be trembled at.

Satan’s power being thus explained and proved, I shall next speak something of his cruelty.

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